(/   y 


11.1  c 


^ 


I'lJ/lislird  by  Jh/7-nf L-/'^<:^..V'-^^'Ji.n 


SELECT 
PRACTICAL    WRITINGS 


OF 


RICHARD    BAXTER, 


WITH    A 


LIFE    OF    THE    AUTHOR, 


BY    LEONARD    BACON, 

PASTOR  or  THE  FIRST  CHURCH  IN  NEW  HAVEN. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 


VOLUME    I. 


SECOND    EDITION    WITH    ADDITIONS. 


NEW  HAVEN : 

PUBLISHED  BY  DURRIE  &  PECK. 

1836. 


t 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834,  by 

DuRRiE  &  Peck, 

in  the  Clerk's  office,  of  the  District  Court  of  Connecticut. 


Printed  by  Hezekiah  Howe  <S:  (>>. 


PREFACE 


In  making  the  follqwing  selections,  I  have,  for  obvious  reasons, 
omitted  those  works  of  this  venerated  autlior  which  are  famihar  to 
the  Christian  pubhc ;  and  have  been  guided  by  a  desire  to  provide 
a  book  suited  to  the  wants  of  private  Christians,  and  of  Christian 
famihes.  Had  it  been  my  object  to  afford  the  theological  scholar 
the  means  of  judging  respecting  Baxter's  opinions  and  his  modes  of 
reasoning  on  disputed  subjects  in  divinity,  these  two  volumes  would 
have  been  made  up  of  very  different  materials. 

The  writings  of  Baxter  are  distinguished,  even  above  those  of 
his  cotemporaries,  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  man  and  of  the  age  in 
which  he  lived.  Those  only  who  know  what  the  author  was,  what 
were  the  vicissitudes  through  which  he  passed,  what  were  the 
changes  and  commotions  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  what 
were  the  men  with  whom  he  had  to  do, — can  enter  fully  into  the 
spirit  of  his  writings.  It  is  simply  with  a  view  of  helping  the  un- 
learned reader  to  a  knowledge  of  the  man  and  of  the  age,  that  the 
Life  of  Baxter  has  been  prefixed  to  this  selection  from  bis  works. 
Literary  men  and  theologians  will  find  the  more  extensive  and  la- 
bored work  of  the  late  Mr.  Orme  on  the  same  subject,  much  better 
adapted  to  their  use. 

When  I  began  the  preparation  of  these  volumes,  I  expected  to 
see  the  end  of  them  much  earlier.  But  I  thank  God  that  while  I 
was  studying  the  writings  and  the  history  of  tliis  eminent  saiiit,  and 
was  seeking  to  imbibe  that  spirit  which  made  him  so  successful   a 


4  PREFACE. 

pastor,  my  studies  were  interrupted  by  a  signal  revival  of  the  work 
of  God  among  the  people  of  my  charge.  Whatever  delay  has 
attended  the  publication,  has  been  caused  by  this  happy  inter- 
ruption. 

Now  reader,  let  these  devout  and  searching  treatises  have  that 
attention  which  they  deserve.     Read  to  learn  what  truth  is,  and  to 
receive  the  truth  in  love ;  to  learn  what  duty  is,  and  to  do  it. 
New  Havkn,  Oct.  28,  1831. 


PREFACE    TO    THE    SECOND    EDITION. 


Grateful  for  the  favor  with  which  these  volumes  have  been  re- 
ceived, I  have  endeavored  to  make  them  in  this  second  edition  more 
worthy  of  that  favor.  The  Life  has  been  carefully  revised,  and  has 
been  somewhat  enlarged  by  more  copious  extracts  from  Baxter's 
own  records.  Additions  have  been  made  to  the  selections,  amount- 
ing in  all  to  nearly  three  hundred  pages. 

Nkw  Haven,  Dec.  9,  1834. 


CONTENTS  OP  THE  FIRST  VOLUME. 


THE  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

Page. 

Part  I.  From  his  birth,  to  the  beginning  of  the  civil  war  in  164r,  .  9 

Part  II.  From  the  beginning  of  the  war,  to  the  time  of  his  leavn.g  the  army,  5G 
Part  III.  From  his  return  to  Kidderminster,  to  the  year  1660,  .  79 

Part  IV.  Frotn  the  year  1660,  to  the  year  1665,  ...  138 

Part  V.  From  the  year  1665,  to  his  death,  ....  18B 

THE  RIGHT  METHOD  FOR  A  SETTLED  PEACE  OF  CONSCIENCE 
AND  SPIRITUAL  COMFORT. 

Epistle  Dedicatory,  .......  229 

To  the  Poor  in  Spirit,         .......  233 

The  Case  to  be  Resolved,  ......  242 

Direct.  I.  Discover  the  cause  of  your  trouble,  .  .  .  243 

Direct.  II.  Discover  well  how  much  of  your  trouble  is  from  melancholy  or 
from  outward  crosses,  and  apply  the  remedy  accordingly,        .  .  244 

Direct.  III.  Lay  first  in  your  understanding  sound  and  deep  apprehensions 
of  God's  nature.  .  .....  248 

Direct.  IV.  Get  deep  apprehensions  of  the  gracious  nature  and  office  of  the 
Mediator,  ........  253 

Direct.  V.  Believe  and  consider  the  full  sufficiency  of  Christ's  sacrifice  and 
ransom  for  all,  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  255 

Direct.  VI.  Apprehend  the  freeness,  fullness  and  universality  of  the  law  of 
grace,  or  conditional  grant  of  pardon  and  salvation  to  all  men,  .  255 

Direct.  VII.  Understand  the  difference  between  general  grace  and  special; 
and  between  the  possibility,  piobability,  conditional  certainty,  and  abso- 
lute certainty  of  your  salvation;  and  so  between  the  several  degrees  of 
comfort  that  these  may  affiard,  .....  256 

Direct.  VIII.  Understand  the  nature  of  saving  faith,  .  .  262 

Direct.  IX.  Next,  perform  the  condition,  by  actual  believing,  .  265 

Direct.  X.  Next,  review  your  own  believing,  and  thence  gather  farther 
assurance,  .  .  .  .  ...  .  .  269 

Direct.  XI.  Make  use,  in  trial,  of  none  but  infallible  signs,      .  .  278 

Direct.  XII.  Know  that  assurance  of  justification  cannot  be  gathered  from 
the  least  degree  of  saving  grace,  .....  293 

Direct.  XIII.  The  first  time  of  our  receiving  or  acting  saving  grace,  cannot 
ordinarily  be  known,        .......  300 

Direct.  XIV.  Know  that  assurance  is  not  the  ordinary  lot  of  true  christians, 
but  only  of  a  few  of  the  strongest,  most  active,  watchf^ul  and  obedient,  .304 

Direct.  XV.  Know  that  even  many  of  the  stronger  and  more  obedient,  are 
yet  unassured  of  salvation  for  want  of  assurance  to  persevere,  .  310 

Direct.  XVI.  There  are  many  grounds  to  discover  a  probability  of  saving 
grace  when  we  cannot  yet  discover  a  certainty;  and  you  must  learn,  next 
to  the  comforts  of  general  grace,  to  receive  the  comforts  of  the  probability 
of  special  grace,  before  you  expect  or  are  ripe  for  the  comforts  of  assurance,  312 

Direct.  XVII.  Improve  your  own  and  other's  experiences  to  strengthen  your 
probabilities,         ........  316 

Direct.  XVIII.  Know  that  God  hath  not  commanded  you  to  believe  that  you 
do  believe,  nor  that  you  are  justified,  or  shall  be  saved  (but  only  conditional- 
ly,) and  therefore  your  a.ssurance  is  not  a  certainty  properly  of  Divine  faith,  319 

Direct.  XIX.  Know  that  those  few  that  do  attain  to  assurance,  have  it  not 
constantly,  ........  327 

Direct.  XX.  Never  expect  so  much  assurance  on  eaith  ns  shall  set  you  above 
all  possibility  of  the  loss  of  heaven,  and  above  all  ap|)iehensions  of  danger,    30H 

Direct.  XXI.  Be  glad  of  a  settled  peace,  and  look  not  too  much  after  rap- 
tures and  strong  feelings  of  comfort;  and  if  you  have  such,  expect  not  a 
constancy  of  them,  .  .  .  ".  .  ,  ,  335 


f>  CONTENTS. 

Page. 
DiRKCT.  XXII.  Spend  more  time  and  care  about  your  duty  than  your  comforts, 

and  to  get,  and  exercise  and  increase  grace  than  to  discern  the  certainty  of  it,  337 
Direct.  XXIII.  Think  not  that  those  doubts  and  troubles  which  are  caused  by 

disobedience  will  be  ever  well  healed  but  by  the  healing  of  that  disobedience,  342 
Direct.  XXIV.  Content  not  yourself  with  a  cheap  religiousness,  and  to 
serve  God  with  that  which  costs  you  little  or  nothing;  and  lake  every  call  to 
costly  duty  or  suliering  for  Christ,  as  a  price  put  into  your  hand  for  advan- 
cing your  comforts,  .......  370 

Direct.  XXV.  Study  the  great  art  of  doing  good;  and  let  it  be  yonr  every 
day's  contrivance,  care  and  business,  how  to  lay  out  all  your  talents  to  the 
greatest  advantage,  .......  378 

Direct.  XXVI.  Trouble  not  j^our  soul  with  needless  scruples,  nor  make 

yourself  more  work  than  God  has  made  you,  .  .  .  384 

Direct.  XXVII.  When  God  hath  discovered  your  sincerity  to  you,  fix  it  in 
your  memory;  and  leave  not  your  soul  open  to  new  apprehensions,  except 
in  case  of  notable  declinings  or  gross  sinning,  .  .  .  397 

Direct.  XXVIII.  Beware  ofperplexing  misinterpretations  of  sciptures,  pro- 
vidences, or  sermons,  ......  402 

Direct.  XXIX.  Distinguish  carefully  between  causes  of  doubting,  and  causes 
of  mere  humiliation  and  amendment,  ....  409 

Direct.  XXX.  Discern  whether  your  doubts  are  such  as  must  be  cured  by  the 
consideration  of  general  or  of  special  grace;  and  be  sure  that,  when  you 
lose  the  sight  of  certain  evidences,  you  let  not  go  probabilities  ;  or  at  the 
worst,  when  you  are  beaten  from  both,  and  judge  yourself  graceless,  yet  lose 
not  the  comforts  of  general  grace,  .....  444 

Direct.  XXXI.  In  all  pressing  necessities  take  advice  from  your  pastors,        448 
Direct.  XXXII.  Understand  that  the  height  of  a  christian  life,  and  the  great- 
est part  of  your  duty,  lieth  in  a  loving  delight  in  God  and  a  thankful  and 
cheerful  obedience  to  his  will,         ......  459 

THE  CHARACTER  OF  A  SOUND,  CONFIRMED  CHRISTIAN. 
Preface,        .........  469 

To  the  Reader,        ........  471 

The  Characters  of  a  strong,  confirmed  Christian. 

1.  He  liveth  by  such  a  faith  of  unseen  things  that  governeth  his  soul  instead 

of  sight, 478 

2.  He  hath  cogent  reasons  for  his  religion,  ....  479 

3.  Heseeth  the  well-ordered  frame  of  sacred  verities,  and  the  integral  parts 

in  their  harmony  or  concert;  and  setteth  not  up  one  truth  against  another,    480 

4.  He  adhereth  to  ihem,  and  practiceth  them,  from  an  inward  con-natural 
principle,  called  "  the  Divine  nature,"  and  "  the  Spirit  of  Christ,"      .  481 

5.  He  serveth  not  God  for  fear  only,  but  for  love,  .  .  .  483 

6.  He  loveth  God,  1.  Much  for  his  goodness  to  himself  2.  And  more  for  his 
goodness  to  the  church.  3.  And  most  of  all  for  his  essential  goodness  and 
perfection,  ........  484 

7.  He  taketh  this  love  and  its  expressions,  for  the  heart  and  height  of  all  his 
religion,  ........  485 

8.  He  hath  absolutely  put  his  soul,  and  all  his  hopes  into  the  hand  of  Christ, 
and  livelh  by  faith  upon  him  as  his  Savior,         ....  487 

9.  He  taketh  Christ  as  the  Teacher  sent  from  God,  and  his  doctrine  for  the 
truest  wisdom,  and  learneth  of  none  but  in  subordination  to  him,         .  488 

10.  His  repentance  is  universal  and  eifectual,  and  hath  gone  to  the  root  of 
every  sin,  ........  489 

11.  He  loveth  the  light,  as  it  sheweth  him  his  sin  and  duty,  and  is  willing  to 
know  the  worst  of  sin,  and  the  most  of  duty,      ....  490 

12.  He  desireth  the  highest  degree  of  holiness,  and  hath  no  sin  which  he  had 
not  rather  leave  than  keep,  and  had  rather  be  the  best,  though  in  poverty, 
than  the  greatest  in  prosperity,  .....  492 

13.  He  liveth  upon  God  and  heaven  as  the  end,  reward,  and  motive  of  his  life,  493 

14.  He  counteth  no  cost  or  pains  too  great  for  the  obtaining  it,  and  hath  no- 
thing so  dear  which  he  cannot  part  with  for  it,  -  .  .  494 

15.  He  is  daily  exercised  in  the  practice  of  self-denial,  as  (next  to  the  love  of 
God)  the  second  half  of  his  religion,  ....  496 

16.  He  hath  mortified  his  fleshly  desires,  and  so  far  mastereth  his  senses  and 
appetite,  that  they  make  not  his  obedience  very  uneasy  or  imeven,      .  499 


CONTENTS.  i 

Page. 

17.  He  preferrelh  the  means  of  his  holiness  and  Iiappiness,  incomparably  be- 
fore all  provisions  and  pleasures  of  the  flesh,  .  .  .  501 

18.  He  is  crucified  lo  the  world,  and  tlie  world  to  him,  by  the  cross  of  Christ, 
and  contemneth  it  through  the  belief  of  the  greater  things  of  the  life  to 
come,         .........  502 

19.  He  foreseeth  the  end  in  all  his  ways,  and  judgeth  of  all  things  as  they  will 
appear  at  last,       ........  503 

20.  He  liveth  upon  God  alone,  and  is  content  with  his  favor  and  approbation, 
without  the  approbation  and  favor  of  men,         ....  505 

21.  He  hath  absolutely  devoted  himself,  and  all  thathe  hath,  to  God,  to  be  used 
according  to  his  will,        .......  507 

22.  He  hath  a  readiness  to  obey,  and  a  quick  and  pleasant  compliance  of  his 
will  to  the  will  of  God, 508 

23.  He  delighteth  himself  more  in  God,  and  heaven,  and  Christ,  and  holiness, 
than  in  all  the  world  ;  religion  is  not  tedious  and  grievous  to  him,      .  509 

24.  He  is  conscious  of  his  own  sincerity,  and  assured  of  his  justification,  and 
title  to  everlasting  joys,  ......  513 

25.  This  assurance  doth  not  make  him  more  careless  and  remiss,  but  increas- 
eth  his  love  and  holy  diligence,  .....  514 

26.  Yet  he  abhorreth "pride  as  the  first-born  of  the  devil,  and  is  very  low  and 
vie  in  his  own  eyes,  and  can  easily  endure  to  be  low  and  vile  in  the  eyes  of 
others,       .........  515 

27.  Being  acquainted  with  the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart,  and  the  methods  of 
temptation,  he  liveth  as  among  snares,  and  enemies,  and  dangers,  in  a  con- 
stant watch;  and  can  conquer  many  and  subtle,  and  great  temptations 
(through  grace),  .......  516 

28.  He  hath  counted  what  it  may  cost  him  to  be  saved,  and  hath  resolved  not 
to  stick  at  suffering,  but  to  bear  the  cross  and  be  conformed  to  his  crucified 
Lord,  and  hath  already  in  heart  forsaken  all  for  him,  .  .  517 

29.  He  is  not  a  Christian  only  for  company  or  carnal  ends,  or  upon  trust  of 
other  men's  opinions,  and  therefore  would  be  true  to  Christ,  if  his  rulers, 

his  teachers,  his  company,  and  all  that  he  knoweth  should  forsake  him,  520 

30.  He  can  digest  the  hardest  truths  of  Scripture,  and  the  hardest  passages  of 
God's  providence,  .......  521 

31.  He  can  exercise  all  his  graces  in  harmony,  without  neglecting  one  to  use 
another,  or  setting  one  against  another,  ....  521 

32.  He  is  more  in  getting  and  using  grace,  than  in  inquiring  whether  he  have 

it,  (though  he  do  that  also  in  its  place),  ....  522 

33.  He  studieth  duty  more  than  events,  and  is  more  careful  what  he  should  be 
towards  God,  than  how  he  shall  here  be  used  by  him,  .  .  523 

34.  He  is  more  regardful  of  his  duty  to  others,  than  of  theirs  to  him,  and  had 
much  rather  suffer  wrong  than  do  it,       .....  523 

35.  He  keepeth  up  a  constant  government  of  his  thoughts,  restraining  them 
from  evil,  and  using  them  upon  God,  and  for  him,        .  .  .  525 

36.  He  keepeth  a  constant  government  over  his  passions,  so  far  as  that  they 
pervert  not  his  judgment,  his  heart,  his  tongue  or  actions,        .  .  526 

37.  He  governeth  his  tongue,  employing  it  for  God,  and  restraining  it  from  evil,  527 

38.  Heart-work  and  heaven-work  are  the  principal  matters  of  his  religious 
discourse,  and  not  barren  controversies  or  impertinences,         .  .  528 

39.  He  liveth  upon  the  common  great  snbstantials  of  religion,  and  yet  will  not 
deny  the  smallest  truth,  or  commit  the  smallest  sin,  for  any  price  that  man 
can  offer  him,     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  529 

40.  He  is  a  high  esteemer,  and  careful  redeemer  of  time,  and  abhorreth  idle- 
ness and  diversions  which  would  rob  him  of  it,  .  .  .  532 

41.  His  heart  is  set  upon  doing  all  the  good  in  theworld  that  heisable:  itishis 
daily  business  and  delight,         ......  533 

42.  He  truly  loveth  his  neighbor  as  himself,  ....  534 

43.  He  hath  a  special  love  to  all  godly  Christians  as  such,  and  such  as  will  not 
stick  at  cost  in  its  due  expressions;  nor  be  turned  into  bitterness  by  tolera- 
ble differences,    ........  535 

44.  He  forgiveth  injuries,  and  loveth  his  enemies,  and  doth  them  all  the  good 

he  can:  from  the  sense  of  the  love  of  Christ  to  him,     .  .  .  536 

45.  He  doth  as  he  would  be  done  by;  and  is  as  precise  in  the  justice  of  his  deal- 
ings with  men,  as  in  acts  of  piety  to  God,  ....  537 


8  CONTENTS. 

PagP. 

46.  He  is  faithful  and  laborious  in  his  outward  trade  or  calling,  not  out  of  cov- 
etousness,  but  obedience  to  God,  .....  539 

47.  He  is  very  conscionable  in  the  duties  of  his  several  relations,  in  his  family 

or  other  society,  as  a  superior,  inferior,  or  equal,         .  .  .  540 

48.  He  is  the  best  subject,  whether  his  rulers  be  good  or  bad,  though  infidel  and 
ungodly  rulers  may  mistake,  and  use  him  as  the  worst,  .  .  540 

49.  His  trust  in  God  doth  overcome  the  fear  of  man,  and  settle  him  in  a  con- 
stant fortitude  for  God,  ......  545 

50.  Judgment  and  zeal  conjunct  are  his  constitution;  his  judgment  kindleth 
zeal,  and  his  zeal  is  still  judicial,  .....  546 

51.  He  can  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and  their  censures  and  abuses  of 
himself;  and  requiteth  them  not  with  uncharitable  censure  or  reproach,       548 

52.  He  is  a  high  esteemer  of  the  unity  of  Christians,  and  abhorreth  the  prin- 
ciples, spirit,  and  practices  of  division,  ....  549 

53.  He  seeketh  the  church's  unity  and  concord,  not  upon  partial,  unrighteous, 

or  impossible,  but  upon  the  possible,  righteous  terms  here  mentioned,  556 

54.  He  is  of  a  mellow,  peaceable  spirit ;  not  masterly,  domineering,  hurtful, 
unquiet,  or  contentious,  ......  560 

55.  He  most  highly  regardeth  the  interest  of  God,  and  men'.s  salvation  in  the 
world;  and  regardeth  no  secular  interest  of  his  own,  or  any  man's,  but  in 
subserviency  thereto,      .......  563 

56.  He  is  usually  hated  for  his  holiness  by  the  wicked,  and  censured  for  his 
charity  and  peaceableness  by  ihe  factious  and  the  weak;  and  is  moved  by 
neither  from  the  way  of  truth,  ......  566 

57.  Though  he  abhor  ungodly,  soul-destroying  ministers,  yet  he  reverenceth 
the  office  as  necessary  to  the  church  and  world ;  and  highly  valueth  the 
holy,  faithful  laborers,    .......  667 

58.  He  hath  great  experience  of  the  providence,  truth,  and  justice  of  God,  to 
fortify  him  against  temptations  to  unbelief,       ....  569 

59.  Though  he  greatly  desireth  lively  affections  and  gifts,  yet  he  much  more 
valueth  the  three  essential  parts  of  holiness,  1.  A  high  estimation  in  the  un- 
derstanding, of  God,  Christ,  holiness,  and  heaven,  above  all  that  be  set  in 
any  competition.  2.  A  resolved  choice  and  adhesion  of  the  will,  to  these 
above  and  against  all  competitors.  3.  The  seeking  them  first,  in  the  en- 
deavors of  the  life.  And  by  these  he  judgeth  of  the  sincerity  of  his 
heart,       .........  569 

60.  He  is  all  his  life  seriously  preparing  for  his  death,  as  if  it  were  at  hand; 
and  is  ready  to  receive  the  sentence  with  joy ;  but  especially  he  longeth  for 
the  blessed  day  of  Christ's  appearing,  as  the  answer  of  all  his  desires  and 
hopes,      .........'       571 

Six  uses  of  these  characters,         ......  574 

Making  light  of  Christ  ;  A  sermon,      .....  583 


THE    LIFE 


RICHARD    BAXTER 


PART   FIRST. 

FROM  HIS  BIRTH  TO  THE  BEGINNING    OF   THE  CIVIL  WAR  IN   1641. 


The  life  of  Richard  Baxter  extends  over  a  little  more  than 
three  quarters  of  a  century.  And  perhaps  in  all  the  history  of 
England,  no  period  of  the  same  length  can  be  selected  more 
abundant  in  memorable  events,  or  more  critical  in  its  bearings  on 
the  cause  of  true  liberty  and  of  pure  Christianity,  than  the  seventy- 
six  years  between  the  birth  of  Baxter  and  his  death. 

The  Reformation  of  the  English  Church  had  been  begun  about 
the  middle  of  the  preceding  century,  by  a  wayward  and  arbitrary 
monarch,  to  gratify  his  own  passions.  Henry  VIII.  renounced  the 
supremacy  of  the  pope,  only  that  he  might  be  pope  himself  within 
the  limits  of  his  own  dominions.  He  dissolved  the  monasteries, 
because  their  immense  pqssessions  made  them  worth  plundering. 
He  made  the  hierarchv  'independent  of  Rome,  and  dependent  on 
himself,  because  he  would  admit  no  power  co-ordinate  with  that 
of  the  crowTi.  And  though,  in  effecting  these  changes,  he  was 
under  the  necessity  of  employing  the  agency  of  some  true  reform- 
ers, who  shared  in  the  spirit  of  Wickliffe,  and  Luther,  and  Calvin, 
nothing  was  farther  from  his  design  than  the  intellectual  or  moral 
renovation  of  the  people. 

On  his  dealli,  in  1547,  an  amiable  prince,  a  boy  in  his  tenth 
year,  became  nominally  king  of  England  ami  head  of  the  English 
church.  During  the  short  reign  of  Edward  VI.  the  refonnation 
was  carried  on  with  a  hearty  good  will,  by  Cranmer  and  his  asso- 

VOL.  I.  2 


10  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

elates  in  the  regency.  The  Bible  in  the  Enghsh  language,  which, 
having  been  published  by  authority  in  the  preceding  reign,  had 
been  soon  afterwards,  by  the  same  authority,  suppressed,  was  now 
again  placed  by  royal  proclamation  in  the  parish  churches.  Wor- 
ship was  performed  in  a  language  "understanded  of  the  people." 
The  liturgy,  first  translated  and  established  in  the  second  year  of 
this  reign,  was  revised  and  purged  from  some  of  its  imperfections 
three  years  afterwards,  and  then  assumed  nearly  the  form  under 
which  it  is  now  used  in  the  churches  of  the  English  Establishment 
and  in  the  Episcopal  churches  of  America.  The  design  of  the 
leading  reformers  in  this  reign  was  to  carry  the  work  of  reformation 
as  far  as  the  circumstances  in  which  they  were  placed  would 
permit.  They  had  their  eye  on  the  more  perfect  reformation  of 
foreign  churches ;  they  were  in  the  full  confidence  of  foreign 
reformers  ;  and  their  aim  was  to  bring  back  the  Church  of  England 
not  only  to  the  purity  of  scriptural  doctrine,  but  to  the  simplicity 
of  scriptural  worship,  and  the  strictness  of  scriptural  discipline. 
In  pursuance  of  this  aim,  foreign  divines  of  eminence,  hearty  dis- 
ciples of  the  Swiss  reformers,  in  discipline  as  well  as  in  doctrine, 
were  made  professors  of  theology  in  both  the  universities,  and  were 
placed  in  other  stations  of  honor  and  influence.  The  progress  of 
the  work  was  hindered  by  the  influence  of  a  powerful  Popish  party, 
including  the  heir  presumptive  to  the  throne,  many  of  the  bishops, 
the  mass  of  the  clergy,  and  perhaps  the  numerical  majority  of  the 
people ;  and  its  consummation  was  defeated  by  the  premature 
death  of  the  king  in  the  sixth  year  of  his  reign. 

The  crown  and  the  ecclesiastical  supremacy  then  devolved  upon 
the  "bloody  Mary,"  in  the  year  1553.  This  princess  inherited  a 
gloomy  temper  ;  and  the  circumstances  of  her  early  life,  while  they 
inspired  her  with  a  bigoted  attachment  to  the  religion  of  Rome, 
co-operated  with  that  religion  to  aggravate  all  that  was  unfortunate 
in  her  native  disposition.  Under  her  government,  a  few  months 
was  time  enough  to  undo  all  that  had  been  done  towards  a  refor- 
mation in  the  two  preceding  reigns.  It  was  found  that  the  king's 
supremacy  was  as  able  to  bring  back  the  old  doctrines  and  the  old 
worship,  as  it  had  been  to  bring  in  the  new.  All  King  Edward's 
laws  about  religion  were  repealed  by  a  single  act  of  an  obsequious 
parliament.  A  solemn  reconciliation  was  efiected  with  the  See  of 
Rome,  and  was  ratified  in  the  blood  of  an  army  of  martyrs. 
Many  of  the  active  friends  of  the  reformation,  foreseeing  the  tem- 
pest, saved  their  lives  by  a  timely  flight  to  foreign  countries.  But 
God  made  the  wrath  of  man  to  praise  him-;  for  the  six  years  of  this 
reign  contributed  more,  perhaps,  than  all  the  labors  of  Cranmer  and 
his  associates,  during  the  six  years  of  Edward,  to  open  the  eyes 
and  quicken  the  sluggish  minds  of  the  people,  and  to  inspire  them 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    RAXTER.  11 

at  once  with  a  warm  affection  for  the  Protestant  faith,  and  with  a 
jhearty  detestation  of  Popery. 

The  commencement  of  the  reign  of  EHzabeth,  in  1558,  is  the 
era  of  the  estabhshment  of  the  reformation  in  England.  This 
queen,  of  all  the  children  of  Henry  VIII.,  inherited  most  largely  the 
spirit  of  her  father.  She  was  against  the  pope,  because  the  pope's 
supremacy  was  at  variance  with  her  own.  She  was  against  the 
spirit  of  Protestantism,  because  she  saw  that  its  tendency  was  to 
make  the  people  think  for  themselves.  It  soon  appeared  that, 
under  her  auspices,  the  reformation,  which  during  the  reign  of  Ed- 
ward had  been  progressive,  and  had  been  represented  by  its  patrons 
as  only  begun,  was  to  be  progressive  no  longer.  Those  who  had 
hoped  that  the  new  government  would  take  up  the  work  of  reform 
where  Cranmer  and  his  associates  had  left  it,  and  would  bring  the 
ecclesiastical  affairs  of  the  kingdom  still  nearer  to  a  primitive  sim- 
plicity in  doctrine  and  in  order,  found  that  the  queen's  march  of  im- 
provement was  retrograde,  and  that  the  church,  under  her  suprem- 
acy, was  to  be  carried  back  towards  the  stately  and  ceremonious 
superstition  of  Romanism.  But  the  popular  mind  had  begun  to 
take  an  interest  in  these  matters.  So  many  religious  revolutions, 
treading  on  each  other's  heels,  had  wakened  thought  and  inquiry, 
even  among  those  who  were  generally  regarded  as  having  only  to 
obey  the  dictation  of  their  superiors.  To  have  suffered  under 
Queen  Mary,  for  dissenting  from  the  established  faith  and  order, 
was  extolled  under  Queen  Elizabeth  as  meritorious  ;  and  the  peo- 
ple began  to  apprehend  that  religious  truth  and  duty  might  be 
something  independent  of  the  throne  and  the  parliament;  something 
which  law  could  not  fix,  nor  revolution  overturn.  Those  who  had 
seen  so  many  burnt,  and  so  many  banished,  for  particular  religious 
opinions,  and  who  understood  that  the  opinions  then  proscribed 
were  now  triumphant,  were  led  to  inquire  what  those  opinions 
were,  and  on  what  basis  they  rested.  Thus  the  public  mind  was 
ripening  for  a  real  reformation. 

In  these  circumstances,  there  sprung  up  a  new  party,  the  party 
of  the  Puritans.  Under  King  Edward,  there  had  been  dissen- 
sion among  the  reformers,  some  wishing  to  go  faster  and  farther 
than  others.  The  question  related  chiefly  to  certain  vestments  of 
the  Popish  priesthood,  and  the  controversy  was,  whether  they 
should  be  retained  or  disused.  By  some  it  was  deemed  important  to 
continue  the  use  of  those  garments  in  the  administration  of  public 
worship,  at  least  for  a  while,  lest,  by  too  sudden  and  violent  a  de- 
parture from  all  old  usages  and  forms,  the  people  might  become 
unnecessarily  and  inveterately  prejudiced  against  the  reformation. 
By  others  those  vestments  were  disapproved  as  relics  of  Popish 
idolatry ;  and  the  disuse  of  them  was  insisted  on,  inasmuch  as  the 


12  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

people  had  been  taught  to  regard  them  with  a  supersthious  feel- 
ing, and  to  believe  that  they  were  essential  to  the  validity  of  all 
religious  administrations.  What  was  at  first  little  else  than  a 
question  of  expediency,  soon  became  a  question  of  conscience. 
Dr.  Hooper,  one  of  the  most  zealous  and  efficient  leaders  of  the 
reformation,  was  imprisoned  several  months  by  his  brethren,  for 
refusing  to  accept  the  bishopric  of  Gloucester  unless  he  might  be 
consecrated  without  putting  on  the  Popish  habits.  That  difficulty 
was  at  last  compromised  by  the  mediation  of  the  Swiss  reformers 
with  Hooper,  on  the  one  hand,  and  of  the  king  and  council  with 
the  ruling  prelates,  on  the  other ;  and  Ridley  and  Hooper  after- 
wards labored  with  the  same  zeal  for  the  truth,  and  at  last  suffered 
with  the  same  patience  the  pains  of  martyrdom.  During  the  per- 
secution in  Queen  Mary's  time,  the  controversy  was  revived  in 
another  form.  Of  the  exiles  who  fled  to  the  Protestant  countries 
on  the  continent,  many  admired,  and  were  disposed  to  copy,  the 
discipline  and  worship  of  the  reformed  churches ;  while  others 
insisted  on  adhering  to  the  letter  of  King  Edward's  service-book. 
At  Frankfort,  the  congregation  at  first  agreed,  with  entire  unanimity, 
on  certain  modes  of  worship  adapted,  as  they  thought,  to  their  ne- 
cessities ;  but  afterwards,  a  new  company  having  arrived,  who 
brought  with  them  a  zealous  attachment  to  the  liturgy,  a  schism 
arose,  and  a  considerable  portion  of  the  congregation,  with  the 
ministers,  left  the  field  to  the  new  comers,  and  took  up  tlieir  resi- 
dence in  Geneva.  On  returning  to  their  native  country,  many  of 
those  who  had  approved  the  constitution  of  the  Swiss  and  French 
Protestant  churches,  exerted  themselves  to  promote  a  further  refor- 
mation in  England,  or  at  least  to  secure  some  liberty  in  regard  to 
matters  which  were  acknowledged  to  be  indifferent.  Their  influ- 
ence as  individuals,  some  of  them  personally  connected  with  men 
high  in  rank  and  authority,  their  influence  in  the  universities, 
where  some  of  them  occupied  important  stations,  and  their  influ- 
ence by  means  of  the  press,  was  employed  to  promote,  by  all 
lawful  means,  greater  purity  of  doctrine  and  of  discipline  in  the 
Church  of  England.  But,  as  has  already  been  intimated,  unifor- 
mity, the  imposing  idea  of  a  whole  nation  united  in  one  church, 
with  one  faith  and  one  form  of  worship,  and  subjected  to  a  splendid 
hierarchy,  with  the  monarch  at  the  head  of  it, — 'was  the  idol  to 
which  the  queen  and  her  counsellors  were  willing  to  sacrifice  both 
peace  and  truth.  Other  matters  besides  habits  and  ceremonies 
were  soon  brought  into  debate.  The  entire  constitution  of  the 
English  church  was  called  in  question.  Thus  the  breach  grew 
wider.  It  was  evident  that  the  Puritans  were  not  to  be  put  doAvn 
at  a  word ;  for,  to  say  nothing  of  the  merits  of  their  cause,  they 
were  the  most  learned  divines,  the  most  powerfld  preachers,  and 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER,  13 

the  most  able  disputants  of  the  age.  Thomas  Cartwri<j;ht,  Marga- 
ret professor  of  divinity  in  the  university  of  Cambridge,  of  whom 
Beza  said  that  "  there  was  not  a  more  learned  man  under  the  sun," 
led  the  van  in  the  dispute  against  prelacy.  The  venerable  Miles 
Coverdale,  who,  having  assisted  Tindal  in  the  translation  of  the 
Bible,  had  been  bishop  of  Exeter  under  King  Edward,  and  had 
hardly  escaped  from  death  under  Queen  Mary,  was  a  Puritan, 
and  as  such  died  poor  and  neglected.  John  Fox,  whose  history  of 
the  martyrs  was  held  in  such  veneration  that  it  was  ordered  to  be 
set  up  in  the  churches,  was  a  Puritan,  and  shared  the  lot  of  Cover- 
dale.  Many  church  dignitaries,  including  some  of  the  bishops, 
were  known  to  despise  the  habits  and  ceremonies,  and  to  desire 
earnestly  a  more  complete  reformation.  Yet  nothing  was  yielded  ; 
the  terms  of  unifoi-mity  were  so  defined  as  to  be  easier  for  Papists 
than  for  those  who  doubted  the  completenes3  of  the  established 
reformation.  Ministers  convicted  of  non-conformity,  though  it 
were  but  the  omission  of  a  sentence  or  a  ceremony  in  the  liturgy, 
or  a  neglect  to  put  on  the  Popish  surplice,  were  suspended,  or 
deprived  of  their  hvings,  then  forbidden  to  preach,  then — in  many 
instances — imprisoned.  When  such  men  were  thus  turned  out  of 
their  employments,  and  prohibited  the  exercise  of  their  gifts,  they 
found  refuge  and  employment  in  the  houses  of  many  of  the  nobil- 
ity and  gentry,  as  private  chaplains  and  instructors.  In  this  way 
their  principles  were  diffused  among  the  highest  classes  of  society. 
Meanwhile  few  preachers  could  be  found  to  occupy  the  places  of 
the  ejected  and  silenced  Puritans.  J\ien  without  learning  and 
without  character  were  made  clergymen ;  but  neither  the  orders 
of  the  queen  in  council,  nor  the  imposition  of  episcopal  hands, 
could  qualify  them  to  be  pastors.  The  people,  especially  the 
thinking  and  the  sober  people  of  the  middhng  classes,  when  they 
saw  the  difference  between  the  pious  and  zealous  preachers  who 
were  deprived  for  non-conformity,  and  the  ignorant  and  sometimes 
profligate  readers  who  were  put  in  their  places,  called  the  latter 
"dumb  dogs,"  (in  allusion  to  the  language  of  scripture,)  and  were 
the  more  ready  to  follow  their  persecuted  teachers.  And  those, 
ol  every  rank,  who  had  begun  to  experience  any  thing  of  the 
power  of  Christian  truth,  and  to  love  the  doctrines  and  duties  of 
the  gospel,  and  who  desired  to  see  sinners  converted  by  the 
preaching  of  God's  word,  sympathized  deeply  with  these  suffering 
ministers,  and,  out  of  respect  ta  their  evangelical  character,  were 
strongly  disposed  to  favor  and  to  adopt  the  principles  for  which 
they  suffered.  Thus,  while  Puritanism  was  making  constant  prog- 
ress in  the  community,  it  was  associated,  almost  from  its  origin, 
with  serious  and  practical  piety ;  and  it  soon  came  to  pass  that 
every  man,  who  cared  more  for  godliness  than  his  neighbors,  or 


14  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

was  more  strict  than  they  in  his  obedience  to  the  precepts  of  the 
gospel,  or  who  exhibited  any  faith  in  the  principles  of  experimen- 
tal religion,  was  called,  by  way  of  reproach,  a  Puritan. 

Elizabeth  died  after  a  reign  of  forty-four  years,  and  was  suc- 
ceeded by  James  I.  in  1683.  The  Puritans,  including  both  those 
who  had  been  voluntarily  or  forcibly  separated  from  the  establish- 
ment, and  those  who,  by  a  partial  or  entire  conformity,  still 
retained  their  connection  with  the  church,  had  entertained  strong 
hopes  that  a  king  who  had  reigned  in  Scotland  from  his  infancy, 
who  had  made  ample  and  frequent  professions  of  his  attachment  to 
the  ecclesiastical  constitution  of  his  native  kingdom,  and  who  had 
openly  declared  respecting  the  church  of  England,  that  "  their  ser- 
vice was  an  evil-said  mass  in  English,"  would  decidedly  favor  a 
more  complete  reformation.  Accordingly  he  was  met,  on  his  prog- 
ress towards  London,  with  numerous  petitions,  one  of  which  was 
signed  by  nearly  eight  hundred  clergymen,  "  desiring  reformation 
of  certain  ceremonies  and  abuses  of  the  church."  But  the  king 
whom  they  addressed  was  at  once  a  vainglorious,  foolish  pedant, 
and  an  arbitrary,  treacherous  prince ;  and  the  first  year  of  his  reign 
abundantly  taught  them  the  fallacy  of  all  their  hopes.  For  the 
sake  of  first  raising,  and  then  disappointing  and  crushing,  the 
expectations  of  such  as  were  dissatisfied  with  the  existing  system, 
a  conference  was  held  by  royal  authority  at  Hampton  Court,  to 
which  were  summoned,  on  one  side  four  Puritan  divines,  with  a 
minister  from  Scotland,  and  on  the  other  side  seventeen  dignitaries 
of  the  church,  nine  of  whom  were  bishops.  At  this  meeting,  after 
the  king  had  first  determined  all  things  in  consultation  with  the 
bishops  and  their  associates,  the  Puritans  were  made  to  feel  that 
they  were  brought  there  not  in  the  spirit  of  conciliation,  but  to  be 
made  a  spectacle  to  their  enemies ;  not  to  argue,  or  to  be  argued 
with,  before  a  king  impartial  and  desiring  to  be  led  by  reason,  but 
to  be  ridiculed  and  scorned,  insulted  and  reproached,  by  a  fool  too 
elevated  in  station  to  be  answered  according  to  his  folly.  As  for 
their  desire  of  liberty  in  things  indifferent,  his  language  was,  "  I 
will  have  none  of  that ;  I  will  have  one  doctrine,  one  discipline, 
one  religion  in  substance  and  ceremony  :  never  speak  more  to  that 
point,  how  far  you  are  bound  to  obey."  To  their  request  that 
ministers  might  have  the  liberty  of  meeting  under  the  direction  of 
their  ecclesiastical  superiors,  for  mutual  assistance  and  improve- 
ment, he  replied  peremptorily,  in  language  characteristically  coarse 
and  profane,  that  their  plans  tended  to  the  subversion  of  monarchy, 
and  charged  them  with  desiring  the  overthrow  of  his  supremacy. 
And  his  majesty's  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  was,  "  I  will 
make  them  conform,  or  I  will  harry  them  out  of  this  land,  or  else 
worse."     Neal  adds  very  truly,  "  and  he  was  as  good  as  his  word." 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  15 

There  were  many  things  in  the  pohcy  of  the  government,  and 
in  the  character  of  the  times,  which  promoted,  during  all  this  reign, 
the  cause  of  Puritanism.  The  king,  with  nothing  of  the  mascu- 
line energy  by  which  Elizabeth  controlled  her  parliaments,  had  the 
most  extravagant  notions  of  his  own  divine  right  to  govern  with- 
out limitation,  and  was  evidently  bent  on  setting  his  will  above  all 
laws.  Under  such  a  prince,  too  arbitrary  to  be  loved,  and  too 
foolish  to  be  feared,  the  spirit  of  liberty  naturally  revived  among 
the  people.  James,  in  his  folly,  gave  the  name  of  Puritanism  to 
every  movement  and  every  principle,  wherever  manifested,  which 
breathed  of  popular  privilege,  or  implied  the  existence  of  any  limit 
to  his  prerogative.  Thus  the  cause  of  the  Puritans  was  associated, 
in  the  estimation  both  of  court  and  country,  with  the  cause  of 
English  freedom,  and  of  resistance  to  the  encroachments  of  arbi- 
trary power ;  and  the  cause  of  the  prelates  was  equally  associated 
with  all  those  measures  of  the  government  that  were  odious  to  the 
friends  of  liberty,  or  pernicious  to  the  common  welfare.  Nor  was 
there  any  incongruity  in  these  associations.  The  Puritans  were 
men  of  a  stern  and  republican  cast ;  they  spake  as  if  they  had 
rights,  and  addressed  the  throne  with  their  complaints.  The  prel- 
ates, in  all  their  relations,  were  dependent  on  the  court ;  they 
sympathized  with  the  king  in  his  love  of  power ;  they  joined  with 
him  in  his  maxim,  "  No  bishop,  no  king ;"  and  they  fed  his  orien- 
tal notions  of  royalty  with  strains  of  oriental  adulation.  Thus  the 
party  of  the  Puritans,  though  it  lacked  not  the  support  of  many  a 
high-minded  nobleman,  rapidly  became  the  party  of  the  middling 
classes ;  while  prelacy  was  espoused  chiefly  by  the  luxurious  and 
unprincipled  nobility  on  the  one  hand,  and  by  their  degraded  and 
dependent  peasantry  on  the  other.  At  the  same  time,  with  a  folly 
if  possible  still  greater,  the  king  deserted  the  Protestant  interest  in 
Europe,  of  which  both  policy  and  principle  ought  to  have  made 
him  the  head ;  sought  first  a  Spanish,  and  afterwards  a  French 
alliance  for  his  son  ;  entered  into  treaties  binding  himself  to  protect 
and  favor  the  Papists  in  his  own  kingdom ;  and  in  many  ways 
showed  himself  not  unwilling  to  be  reconciled  to  Rome.  Nothing 
could  have  been  more  offensive  to  the  people,  whose  hatred  of 
Popery,  kindled  into  a  passion  by  the  persecutions  under  Mary, 
and  kept  alive  by  the  terror  of  the  Spanish  invasion,  and  by  the 
national  rejoicings  over  its  defeat,  had  now  been  aggravated  into 
an  incurable  horror  by  the  recently  discovered  "  Powder  Plot." 
Hardly  any  thing  could  have  given  the  Puritans  a  better  introduc- 
tion to  popular  favor  ;  for  they  were  cordial  and  zealous  Protestants, 
hating  the  very  garments  spotted  with  the  pollutions  of  Rome ; 
and  what  could  their  enemies  be  but  secret  Papists  ?  Another  in- 
stance of  the  infatuation  of  this  reign  was  the  marked  favor  shown 


16  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

to  tlie  newly-broached  doctrines  of  Arminianism.  Abbot,  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  was  indeed  an  opposer  of  those  novel- 
ties, and  promoted,  to  the  extent  of  his  influence,  the  preaching  of 
evangelical  truth,  deeming  it  far  more  important  than  all  the  cere- 
monies ;  but  the  king  introduced  into  several  of  the  most  impor- 
tant bishoprics  men  of  another  stamp,  whose  views  were  known  to 
be  at  war  with  the  doctrines  of  the  reformers ;  and  all  who  held 
the  Calvinistic  construction  of  the  Articles,  however  strict  their  con- 
formity, were  branded  as  "doctrinal  Puritans,"  and  for  them  there 
was  no  road  to  preferment.  No  wonder  that,  under  such  influences, 
dissatisfaction  with  the  existing  ecclesiastical  system  grew  deeper 
and  stronger.     James  I.  was  succeeded  by  Charles  I.  in  1625. 

In  the  scenes  that  followed,  Richard  Baxter  sustained  an  im- 
portant part.  He  was  born  at  Rowton,  a  village  in  Shropshire, 
November  12,  1615.  His  father  (whose  name  was  also  Richai-d) 
was  a  freeholder,  possessed  of  a  moderate  estate  at  Eaton  Constan- 
tine,  another  village  in  the  same  county,  about  five  miles  from 
Shrewsbury.  His  infancy  was  spent  under  the  care  and  in  the 
house  of  his  maternal  grandfather  at  Rowton.  At  about  ten  years 
of  age,  he  was  taken  home  by  his  parents  to  their  residence  at  Eaton 
Constantino. 

His  father  had  been  in  youth  so  much  addicted  to  gaming,  as  to 
have  involved  his  property  in  very  considerable  embarrassments ; 
but,  at  a  later  period,  the  blessing  of  God  on  the  simple  reading  of 
the  Scriptures,  without  any  other  religious  advantages,  had  made 
him  a  devout  and  godly  man.  The  influence  of  a  father's  example 
and  serious  instructions,  early  affected  rhe  mind  of  the  son  with  re- 
ligious impressions,  and  gave  him  a  remarkable  tenderness  of  con- 
science. !n  subsequent  years,  the  father  expressed  a  strong  belief 
that  his  son  Richard  was  converted  in  infancy. 

Respecting  the  religious  advantages  of  his  childhood,  aside  from 
domestic  example  and  instruction,  Baxter  gives  the  following  testi- 
mony. "  We  lived  in  a  country  that  had  but  little  preaching  at  all. 
In  the  village  where  I  vi^as  born,  there  were  four  readers  succes- 
si\ely  in  six  years  time,  ignorant  men,  two  of  them  immoral  in  their  ■ 
lives,  who  were  all  my  schoolmasters.  In  the  village  where  my 
father  lived,  there  was  a  reader  of  about  eighty  years  of  age,  that 
never  preached,  and  had  two  churches  about  twenty  miles  distant. 
His  eyesight  failing  him,  he  said  common  prayer  without  book ; 
but  for  the  reading  of  the  Psalms  and  chapters,  he  got  a  common 
thresher  and  day-laborer  one  year,  and  a  taylor  another  year;  for 
the  clerk  could  not  read  well.  And  at  last  he  had  a  kinsman  of 
his  own,  (the  excellentest  stage-player  in  all  the  country,  and  a 
good  gamester  and  good  fellow,)   that  got  orders  and  supplied  one 


LIFE    OK    UlCHARD    BAXTER.  J  7 

of  his  places.  After  him  another  younger  iiinsman,  that  could  write 
and  read,  got  orders.  And  at  the  same  time  another  neighbor's 
son,  that  had  been  a  wliile  at  school,  turned  minister,  and,  who 
would  needs  go  further  than  the  rest,  ventured  to  preach,  (and  after 
got  a  living  in  Staifordshire,)  and  when  he  had  been  a  preacher 
about  twelve  or  sixteen  years,  he  was  fain  to  give  over,  it  being 
discovered  that  his  orders  were  forged  by  the  first  ingenious  stage- 
player.  After  him  another  neighbor's  son  took  orders,  when  he 
had  been  a  while  an  attorney's  clerk,  and  a  common  drunkard, 
and  tippled  himself  into  so  great  poverty  that  he  had  no  other  way 
to  live.  It  was  feared  that  he  and  more  of  them  came  by  their 
orders  the  same  way  with  the  forementioned  person.  These  were 
the  schoolmasters  of  my  youth,  (except  two  of  them,)  who  read 
common  prayer  on  Sundays  and  holy-days,  and  taught  school  and 
tippled  on  the  week  days,  and  whipped  the  boys  when  they  were 
diimk,  so  that  we  changed  them  very  oft.  Within  a  few  miles 
about  us  were  near  a  dozen  more  ministers  that  were  near  eighty 
years  old  apiece,  and  never  preached  ;  poor  ignorant  readers,  and 
most  of  them  of  scandalous  lives.  Only  three  or  four  constant, 
competent  preachers  lived  near  us,  and  those  (though  conformable 
all  save  one)  were  the  common  marks  of  the  people's  obloquy  and 
reproach,  and  any  that  had  but  gone  to  hear  them  when  he  had 
no  preaching  at  home,  was  made  the  derision  of  the  \Tilgar  rabble, 
under  the  odious  name  of  a  Puritane."* 

The  state  of  society  in  which  his  early  years  were  spent,  he 
describes  in  the  same  style.  The  character  of  the  people  corre- 
sponded with  the  character  of  their  religious  privileges.  "  In  the 
village  where  I  lived,"  he  says,  "  the  reader  read  the  common 
prayer  briefly,  and  the  rest  of  the  day,  even  till  dark  night  almost, 
except  eating  time,  was  spent  in  dancing  under  a  maypole  and  a 
great  tree,  not  iar  from  my  father's  door ;  where  all  the  town  did 
meet  together.  And  though  one  of  my  father's  own  tenants  was 
the  piper,  he  could  not  restrain  him  nor  break  the  sport ;  so  that 
we  could  not  read  the  scripture  in  our  family  without  the  great 
disturbance  of  the  taber  and  pipe  and  noise  in  the  street.  Many 
times  my  mind  was  inclined  to  be  among  them,  and  sometimes  1 
broke  loose  from  conscience  and  joined  with  them ;  and  the  more 
I  did  it,  the  more  I  was  inclined  to  it.  But  when  I  heard  them 
call  my  father,  Puritan,  it  did  much  to  cure  me  and  alienate  me 
from  them ;  for  I  considered  that  my  father's  exercise  of  reading 
the  scripture,  was  better  than  their's,  and  would  surely  be  better 
thought  on  by  all  men  at  the  last ;  and  I  considered  what  it  w'as  for 
which  he  and  others  were  thus  derided.     When  I  heard  them 


*  Narrative  of  his  life  and  times.     Part  I.  p.  2. 
VOL.    I.  3 


18  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

speak  scornfully  of  others  as  Puritans,  whom  I  never  knew,  I  was 
at  first  apt  to  believe  all  the  lies  and  slanders  wherewith  they  load- 
ed them.  But  when  I  heard  my  own  father  so  reproached,  and 
perceived  the  drunkards  were  the  forwardest  in  the  reproach,  I 
perceived  that  it  was  mere  malice.  For  my  father  never  scrupled 
common  prayer  or  ceremonies,  nor  spake  against  bishops,  nor 
even  so  much  as  prayed  but  by  a  book  or  form,  being  not  even 
acquainted  with  any  that  did  otherwise.  But  only  for  reading 
scripture  when  the  rest  were  dancing  on  the  Lord's  day,  and  for 
praying  (by  a  form  out  of  the  end  of  the  common  prayer  book)  in 
his  house,  and  for  reproving  drunkards  and  swearers,  and  for  talk- 
ing sometimes  a  few  words  of  scripture  and  the  life  to  come,  he 
was  reviled  commonly  by  the  name  of  Puritan,  Precisian,  and 
Hypocrite  ;  and  so  were  the  godly  conformable  ministers  that 
lived  any  where  near  us,  not  only  by  our  neighbors,  but  by  the 
common  talk  of  all  the  \ailgar  rabble  of  all  about  us.  By  this 
experience  I  was  fully  convinced  that  godly  people  were  the  best, 
and  those  that  despised  them,  and  lived  in  sin  and  pleasure,  were 
a  malignant,  unhappy  sort  of  people ;  and  this  kept  me  out  of 
their  company,  except  now  and  then,  when  the  love  of  sports  and 
play  enticed  me.  "* 

Al)out  the  age  of  fifteen,  the  mind  of  Baxter  was  more  deeply 
and  permanently  affected  with  the  things  that  pertain  to  salvation. 
That  tenderness  of  conscience,  which  has  already  been  described 
as  characteristic  of  his  early  childhood,  made  him  feel  with  much 
sensibility  the  guilt  of  some  boyish  crimes  into  which  he  had  been 
led  by  his  ruder  companions.  In  this  distress,  he  met  with  an  old 
torn  book,  which  had  been  lent  to  his  father  by  a  poor  day -laborer. 
The  book,  though  now  obsolete,  seems  to  have  been  blessed  in 
its  day  to  the  conversion  of  many.  It  was  written  originally  by  a 
Jesuit,  on  Roman  Catholic  principles,  but  had  been  carefully  cor- 
rected by  Edmund  Bunny,  a  Puritan  of  Queen  Elizabeth's  time, 
after  whoni  it  was  entitled  "  Bunny's  Resolution.  "  The  reading 
of  this  book  was  attended  with  the  happiest  effects  on  his  mind. 
*'  I  had  before  heard, "  he  says,  ''  some  sermons,  and  read  a  good 
book  or  two,  which  made  me  more  love  and  honor  godliness  in  the 
general ;  but  I  had  never  felt  any  other  change  by  them  on  my 
heart.  Whether  it  were  that  till  now  I  came  not  to  that  maturity 
of  nature,  which  made  me  capable  of  discerning ;  or  whether  it 
were  that  this  was  God's  appointed  time,  or  both  together,  I  had 
no  lively  sight  or  sense  of  what  I  read  till  now.  And  in  the 
reading  of  this  book,  it  pleased  God  to  awaken  my  soul,fand  show 
me  the  folly  of  sinning,  and  the  misery  of  the  wicked,  and  the 

*  Narrative,  Part  I,  pp.  2,  3. 


LIFE  OF  RTCHARD  BAXTER.  19 

inexpressible  weight  of  things  eternal,  and  the  necessity  of  resolv- 
ing on  a  holy  life,  more  than  I  was  ever  acquainted  with  before. 
The  same  things  which  I  knew  before,  came  now  in  another 
manner,  with  light,  and  sense,  and  seriousness,  to  my  heart.  This 
cast  me  at  fii'st  into  fears  of  my  condition ;  and  those  drove  me  to 
sorrow,  and  confession,  and  prayer,  and  so  to  some  resolution  for 
another  kind  of  life.  And  many  a  day  I  went  with  a  throbbing 
conscience,  and  saw  that  I  had  other  matters  to  mind,  and  another 
work  to  do  in  the  world,  than  I  had  minded  well  before. 

"  Yet  whether  sincere  conversion  began  now,  or  before,  or  after, 
I  was  never  able  to  this  day*  to  know ;  for  I  had  before  had  some 
love  to  the  things  and  people  which  were  good,  and  a  restraint 
from  other  sins  except  those  forementioned ;  and  so  much  from 
those,  that  I  seldom  committed  most  of  them,  and  when  I  did,  it 
was  with  great  reluctance.  And  both  now  and  formerly,  I  knew 
that  Christ  was  the  only  Mediator  by  whom  we  must  have  pardon, 
justification  and  Hfe.  But  even  at  that  time,  I  had  little  Hvely 
sense  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ  to  the  world  in  me,  nor  of  my 
special  need  of  him ;  for  all  Papists  almost  are  too  short  upon  this 
subject,  "t 

At  this  time  bis  father  bought  of  a  pedler  at  the  door,  another 
book,  "  The  Bruised  Reed,"  by  Dr.  Richard  Sibbs.  This  he 
found  adapted  to  the  state  of  his  mind  in  those  circumstances.  It 
disclosed  to  him  more  clearly  the  love  of  God  towards  him,  and 
gave  him  livelier  apprehensions  of  the  mystery  of  Redemption, 
and  of  his  obligations  to  the  Savior.  Afterwards  a  servant  came 
into  the  family  with  a  volume  of  the  works  of  William  Perkins, 
another  ancient  and  eminent  Puritan  divine  ;  the  reading  of  which 
instructed  him  further,  and  gave  new  strength  to  his  determination. 
"  Thus,"  he  says,  "  without  any  means  but  books,  w^as  God  pleased 
to  resolve  me  for  himself."  During  all  this  period  of  his  educa- 
tion and  of  his  Christian  experience,  neither  his  father  nor  himself 
had  any  acquaintance  with  a  single  individual  better  instructed 
than  themselves  on  the  subject  of  religion.  It  is  also  worthy  of 
notice  that  they  had  never  heard  an  extemporaneous  prayer. 
"  My  prayers,"  says  Baxter,  "  were  the  confession  in  the  common 
prayer  book,  and  sometimes  one  of  Mr.  Bradford's  prayers  in  a 
book  called  his  '  Prayers  and  Meditations,'  and  sometimes  a  prayer 
out  of  another  prayer  book  which  we  had." 

The  ignorant  and  tippling  schoolmasters,  under  whom  he  ac- 
quired the  earliest  rudiments  of  education,  have  already  been 
described.  Of  a  Mr.  John  Owen,  master  of  a  considerable  free 
school  at  Wroxeter,  near  his  father's  residence,  he  speaks  with 

*  Written  in  1G64,  thirty-four  years  afterwards.        t  Narrative,  Tarl  I.  p.  3. 


20  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

respect.  In  that  school  he  was  fitted  for  the  university.  But 
when  his  studies  were  advanced  to  that  point,  he  was  diverted 
from  his  original  design  of  obtaining  a  regular  education  at  one  of 
the  established  seats  of  learning.  His  teacher  proposed  that,  in- 
stead of  going  to  the  university,  he  should  be  put  under  the  tuition 
of  a  Mr.  Wickstead,  chaplain  to  the  council  at  Ludlow,  who  was 
allowed  to  have  a  single  pupil.  This  situation,  he  was  made  to 
believe,  was  much  more  favorable  to  study  than  the  university ; 
and  his  parents  regarded  the  new  proposal  with  much  partiality, 
as  by  such  an  arrangement  their  only  son  would  still  be  kept  near 
them.  Accordingly  he  went  to  Ludlow  Castle.  But  his  new 
instmctor  taught  him  nothing.  The  chaplain  to  the  council  was 
too  much  engaged  with  his  efforts  "  to  please  the  great  ones,  and 
to  seek  prefemient;"  he  had  no  time  or  attention  to  bestow  on 
his  single  pupil.  Yet  he  did  nothing  to  hinder  the  progress  of  the 
active  and  powerful  young  mind  which  he  had  undertaken  to  in- 
struct ;  and,  with  time  enough  and  books,  such  a  mind  could  not 
fail  to  make  progress. 

In  his  new  circumstances  he  was  exposed  to  many  temptations, 
the  castle  and  town  being  full  of  idleness  and  dissipation.  But 
while  there,  he  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  a  man  who, 
though  he  afterwards  apostatized,  was  then  distinguished  by  strong 
and  fervid  religious  feelings.  His  intercourse  with  his  friend  not 
only  kept  him  on  his  guard,  but  kindled  his  own  feelings  to  a 
higher  pitch  of  excitement  than  they  had  ever  attained  before. 

After  a  year  and  a  half  spent  at  Ludlow  Castle,  he  returned  to 
his  father's  house.  His  former  teacher  Owen  being  sick  with 
consumption,  he,  at  the  request  of  Lord  Newport,  the  patron,  took 
charge  of  the  school  for  a  few  months.  The  death  of  Owen,  and 
the  appointment  of  a  successor,  soon  left  him  at  liberty ;  and, 
having  resolved  to  enter  the  ministry,  he  put  himself  under  the 
instruction  of  Mr.  Francis  Garbet,  then  minister  at  Wroxeter,  of 
whom  he  speaks  with  affection  and  reverence.  Under  this 
teacher  he  commenced,  with  mucli  zeal,  those  metaphysical  pur- 
suits to  which  he  was  ever  afterwards  so  much  devoted.  His 
studies,  however,  were  much  interrupted  by  disease,  and  sometimes 
by  mental  distress  approaching  to  religious  melancholy. 

Not  far  from  this  time,  when  he  was  about  eighteen  years  of 
age,  he  was  persuaded  for  a  little  while  to  abandon  his  plans  and 
expectations  in  regard  to  preaching  the  gospel.  Mr.  Wickstead, 
his  tutor  at  Ludlow,  who  seems  to  have  regarded  him  with  a  friend- 
ly interest,  proposed  that  he  should  go  to  London,  in  the  hope  of 
obtaining  some  office  about  the  court.  Baxter  himself  disliked  the 
proposal ;  but  his  parents  not  having  any  great  inclination  to  seo 
their  son  a  clergyman,  (which  cannot  be  thought  strange,  consider- 


LIFE  OP  RICHARD  BAXTER.  21 

ing  the  specimens  of  clerical  character  with  which  they  were  ac- 
quainted,) were  so  much  pleased  with  it,  that  he  felt  himself  con- 
strained to  yield  to  their  wishes.  Accordingly  he  went  to  London, 
and,  hy  the  friendly  aid  of  Mr.  Wickstead,  was  introduced  to  the 
patronage  of  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  then  master  of  the  revels.  He 
staid  with  Sir  Henry  at  Whitehall  about  a  month ;  and  in  that 
short  time  had  enough  of  the  court.  For  when  he  saw,  as  he  says, 
"  a  stage  play  instead  of  a  sermon  on  the  Lord's  days  in  the  after- 
noon," and  "  heard  little  preaching  but  what  was  as  to  one  part 
against  the  Puritans,"  he  was  glad  to  be  gone.  At  the  same  time 
his  mother,  being  sick,  desired  his  return.  So  he  "  resolved  to  bid 
farewell  to  those  kinds  of  employments  and  expectations."  It  is 
no  wonder  if,  after  this  piece  of  experience,  he  entertained  very 
little  respect  for  the  religion  of  the  court  and  the  king,  and  was 
more  inclined  than  ever  toward  the  principles  of  the  calumniated 
Puritans. 

When  he  came  home,  he  found  his  mother  in  extreme  pain. 
She  continued  in  lingering  distress  for  about  five  months,  and  died 
on  the  tenth  of  May,  1C85.  More  than  a  year  afterwards,  his  father 
married  Mary  the  daughter  of  Sir  Thomas  Hurkes,  a  woman  of 
eminent  excellence,  whose  "  holiness,  mortification,  contempt  of 
the  world,  and  fervent  prayer,"  made  her  "  a  blessing  to  the  family, 
an  honor  to  religion,  and  a  pattern  to  those  that  knew  her."  This 
is  the  character  given  of  her  by  her  step-son,  after  her  departure 
at  the  age  of  ninety-six. 

He  now  pursued  his  preparation  for  the  ministry  without  any 
further  interruption,  save  what  was  occasioned  by  the  extreme  in- 
firmity of  his  constitution,  and  the  repeated  attacks  of  disease.  His 
physical  frame,  though  naturally  sound,  was  never  firm  or  vigorous  ; 
and  from  childhood  he  was  subject  to  a  nervous  debility.  At  four- 
teen years  of  age,  he  had  the  small  pox ;  and  in  connection  witli 
that  disease,  he  brought  upon  himself,  by  improper  exposure  and 
diet,  a  violent  catarrh  and  cough,  which  prevented  all  quiet  sleep 
at  night.  After  two  years,  this  was  attended  with  spitting  of  blood 
and  other  symptoms  of  consumption ;  and  from  this  time  to  the 
extreme  old  age  at  which  he  left  the  world,  he  lived  a  dying  life. 
The  ever-varying  remedies  which  he  successively  tried,  following 
from  time  to  time  the  discordant  suggestions  of  physicians  and 
other  advisers,  had  little  effect  except  to  vary,  and  with  each  vari- 
ation, as  it  seemed,  to  aggravate,  the  symptoms  of  disease.  The 
record  of  his  diseases  and  his  remedies,  need  not  be  transcnbed. 
His  "rheumatic  head;"  his  "flatulent  stomach,  that  turned  all 
things  into  wind  ;"  his  blood  in  such  a  state  as  to  occasion  the  fre- 
quent excoriation  of  his  fingers'  ends ;  and  his  excessive  bleedings 
at  the  nose. — both  periodical,  every  spring  and  aiilumn,  ai\d  orca- 


22  LIFE   OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

sional,  whenever  he  was  subjected  to  any  unusual  heat, — explain  his 
intervals  of  melancholy,  afford  an  apology  for  the  alledged  acerbity 
of  his  temper,  and  make  the  industry  of  his  life,  especially  when 
viewed  in  connection  with  the  results,  almost  miraculous. 

This  living  continually  at  the  gate  of  death,  and  as  it  were  within 
sight  of  an  immediate  retribution,  had  much  to  do  in  the  formation 
of  his  character  as  a  Christian,  and  as  a  minister  of  the  gospel. 
When  he  was  thought  to  be  sinking  in  a  consumption,  at  the  age 
of  seventeen,  the  nearness  of  death  set  him  on  a  close  and  trem- 
bling examination  of  his  fitness  to  die.  Thus  was  he  "  long  kept 
with  the  calls  of  approaching  death  at  one  ear,  and  the  questionings 
of  a  doubtful  conscience  at  the  other ;"  and  afterwards  he  "  found 
that  this  method  of  God's  was  very  wise,"  and  that  no  other  was 
so  likely  to  have  tended  to  his  good.  It  humbled  him,  and  led  him 
to  abasing  views  of  himself.  It  restrained  him  from  the  levity  and 
vanity  of  youth,  and  helped  him  to  meet  temptations  to  sensuality 
with  the  greatest  fear.  It  made  the  doctrine  of  redemption  the 
more  delightful  to  him  ;  and  the  studies  and  considerations  to  which 
it  led  him,  taught  him  hov/  to  live  by  faith  on  Christ.  It  made 
the  world  seem  to  him  like  "  a  carcass  that  had  neither  life  nor 
loveliness."  "  It  destroyed,"  he  says,  "those  ambitious  desires 
after  literate  fame,  which  was  the  sin  of  my  childhood.  I  had  a 
desire  before  to  have  attained  the  highest  academical  degrees  and 
reputation  of  learning,  and  to  have  chosen  out  my  studies  accord- 
ingly ;  but  sickness,  and  solicitousness  for  my  doubting  soul,  did 
di'ive  away  all  these  thoughts  as  fooleries  and  children's  plays." 

What  he  says  respecting  the  efiect  of  all  this  on  the  course  of 
his  preparation  for  the  ministry,  is  worthy  of  a  particular  attention. 
"  It  set  me  upon  that  method  of  my  studies,  which  since  then  I  have 
found  the  benefit  of,  though  at  the  time  I  was  not  satisfied  with 
myself.  It  caused  me  first  to  seek  God's  kingdom  and  his  right- 
eousness, and  most  to  mind  the  one  thing  needful,  and  to  deter- 
mine first  of  my  ultimate  end,  by  which  I  was  engaged  to  choose 
out  and  to  prosecute  all  other  studies  but  as  meant  to  that  end. 
Therefore  divinity  was  not  only  carried  on  with  the  rest  of  my  stud- 
ies with  an  equal  hand,  but  always  had  the  first  and  chiefest  place. 
And  it  caused  me  to  study  practical  divinity  first,  and  in  the  most 
practical  books,  in  a  practical  order,  doing  all  purposely  for  the  in- 
forming and  reforming  of  my  own  soul.*  So  that  I  had  read  a 
multitude  of  our  English  practical  treatises  before  I  had  ever  read 
any  other  bodies  of  divinity  than  Ursine  and  Amesius,  or  two  or 
three  more.     By  which  means  my  affection  was  carried  on  with 

*  A  new  day  will  dawn  on  the  church,  when  all  students  of  theology  adopt  this 
principle. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    B/VXTKIl.  23 

my  judgment ;  and  by  that  means  I  prosecuted  all  my  studies  with 
unweariedness  and  delight ;  and  by  that  means  all  that  I  read  did 
stick  the  better  in  my  memory ; — and  also  less  of  my  time  was  lost 
by  lazy  intermissions,  but  my  bodily  infirmities  always  caused  me 
to  lose  (or  spend)  much  of  it  in  motion  and  corporeal  exercises, 
which  was  sometimes  by  walking,  and  sometimes  at  the  plow  and 
such  country  Itibors. 

"  But  one  loss  I  had  by  this  method,  which  hath  proved  irrepara- 
ble ;  I  missed  that  part  of  learning  which  stood  at  the  greatest  dis- 
tance (in  my  thoughts)  from  my  ultimate  end,  though  no  doubt  but 
remotely  it  may  be  a  valuable  means — and  I  could  never  since  find 
time  to  get  h.  Besides  the  Latin  tongue,  and  but  a  mediocrity  in 
Greek,  with  an  inconsiderable  trial  at  the  Hebrew  long  after,  I  had 
no  great  skill  in  languages ;  though  I  saw  that  an  accurateness  and 
thorough  insight  in  the  Greek  and  Hebrew  were  very  desirable. 
But  I  was  so  eagerly  carried  after  the  knowledge  of  things,  that  I 
too  much  neglected  the  study  of  words.  And  for  the  mathematics, 
I  was  an  utter  stranger  to  them,  and  never  could  find  in  my  heart 
to  divert  my  studies  that  way.  But  in  order  to  the  knowledge  of 
divinity,  my  inclination  was  most  to  logic  and  metaphysics,  with 
that  part  of  physics  which  teacheth  of  the  soul,  contenting  myself 
at  first  with  a  slighter  study  of  the  rest.  And  these  had  my  labor 
and  delight ;  which  occasioned  me  (perhaps  too  soon)  to  plunge 
myself  very  early  into  the  study  of  controversies,  and  to  read  all 
the  schoolmen  I  could  get.  For  next  to  practical  divinity,  no  books 
so  suited  with  my  disposition  as  Aquinas,  Scotus,  Durandus,  Oc- 
kam,  and  their  disciples  ;  because  I  thought  they  narrowly  searched 
after  truth,  and  brouglit  things  out  of  the  darkness  of  confusion. 
For  I  could  never  from  my  first  studies  endure  confusion.     1  ilLt 

EQUIVOCALS  WERE  EXPLAINED,  AND  DEFINITION  AND  DISTINCTION 
LED  THE  WAY,  I  HAD  RATHER  HOLD  IVIY  TONGUE  THAN  SPEAK; 
AND  WAS  NEVER  MORE  WEARY  OF  LEARNED  MEN's  DISCOURSES, 
THAN  WHEN  1  HEARD  THEM  WRANGLING  ABOUT  UNEXPOUNDED 
WORDS  OR  THINGS,  AND  EAGERLY  DISPUTING  BEFORE  THEY  UN- 
DERSTOOD EACH  other's  MINDS,  and  vehemently  asserting  modes, 
and  consequences,  and  adjuncts,  before  they  considered  of  the 
^uod  sit,  the  ^uid  sit,  or  the  Qiiotiiplex.  I  never  thought  I  un- 
derstood any  thing  till  I  could  anatomize  it,  and  see  the  parts  dis- 
tinctly, and  the  conjunction  of  the  parts  as  they  make  up  the 
whole.  Distinction  and  method  seemed  to  me  of  that  necessity, 
that  without  them  I  could  not  be  said  to  know  ;  and  the  disputes  that 
forsook  them,  or  abused  them,  seemed  but  as  incoherent  dreams." 
Allusion  has  been  made  to  the  fears  and  difficulties  which  at- 
tended his  religious  views  and  feelings  at  this  period  of  his  life. 
These  were,  perhaps,  in  no  respect  peculiar.     Few  Christians  can 


24  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

read  what  he  records  on  this  subject,  without  finding  much  that 
coincides  with  their  own  experience,  and  much,  in  the  way  of  anal- 
ysis and  explanation,  that  is  adapted  to  their  own  necessities. 

"  As  for  those  doubts  of  my  own  salvation,  which  exercised  me 
for  many  years,  the  chiefest  causes  of  them  were  these  : — 

"  1.  Because  I  could  not  distinctly  trace  the  workings  of  the 
Spirit  upon  my  heart,  in  that  method  which  Mr.  Bolton,  Mr. 
Hooker,  Mr.  Rogers  and  other  divines  describe  ;  nor  knew  the  time 
of  my  conversion,  being  wrought  on  by  the  forementioned  degrees. 
But  since  then,  I  understood  that  the  soul  is  in  too  dark  and  passion- 
ate a  plight,  at  first,  to  be  able  to  keep  an  account  of  the  order  of  its 
own  operations ;  and  that  preparatory  grace  being  sometimes 
longer  and  sometimes  shorter,  and  the  first  degree  of  special  grace 
being  usually  very  small,  it  is  not  possible  that  one  of  very  many 
should  be  able  to  give  any  tme  account  of  the  just  time  when 
special  grace  began,  and  advanced  him  above  the  state  of  prep- 
aration. 

"2.  My  second  doubt  was  as  aforesaid,  because  of  the  hardness 
of  my  heart,  or  want  of  such  a  lively  apprehension  of  things  spirit- 
ual, which  I  had  about  things  corporeal.  And  though  I  still  groan 
under  this  as  my  sin  and  want,  yet  I  now  perceive  that  a  soul  in 
flesh  doth  work  so  much  after  the  manner  of  the  flesh,  that  it  much 
desireth  sensible  apprehensions  ;  but  things  spiritual  and  distant  are 
not  so  apt  to  work  upon  them,  and  to  stir  the  passions,  as  things 
present  and  sensible  are  ;  especially  being  known  so  darkly  as  the 
state  and  operations  of  separated  souls  are  known  to  us  who  are  in 
tiie  body ;  and  that  the  rational  operations  of  the  higher  faculties 
(the  intellect  and  will)  may,  without  so  much  passion,  set  God  and 
things  spiritual  highest  within  us,  and  give  them  the  pre-eminence, 
and  subject  all  carnal  interest  to  them,  and  give  them  the  govern- 
ment of  the  heart  and  life  ;  and  that  this  is  the  ordinary  state  of  a 
believer. 

"3.  My  next  doubt  was  lest  education  and  fear  had  done  all 
that  was  ever  done  upon  my  soul,  and  regeneration  and  love  were 
yet  to  seek  ;  because  I  had  found  convictions  from  my  child- 
hood, and  had  found  more  fear  than  love  in  all  my  duties  and 
restraints. 

"  But  I  afterwards  perceived  that  education  is  Grod's  ordinary 
way  for  the  conveyance  of  his  grace,  and  ought  no  more  to  be  set 
in  opposition  to  the  Spirit  than  the  preaching  of  the  word ;  and 
that  it  was  the  great  mercy  of  God  to  begin  with  me  so  soon,  and 
to  prevent  such  sins  as  might  else  have  been  my  shame  and  sorrow 
while  I  lived ;  and  that  repentance  is  good,  but  prevention  and  in- 
nocence is  better,  which  though  we  cannot  obtain  in  perfection,  yet 
the  more  the  better.     And  I  understood  that  though  fear  without 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  25 

love  be  not  a  state  of  saving  grace,  and  greater  love  to  the  world 
than  to  God  be  not  consistent  with  sincerity,  yet  a  little  predomi- 
nant love,  (prevailing  against  worldly  love,)  conjunct  with  a  far 
greater  measure  of  fear,  may  be  a  state  of  special  grace  ;  and  that 
fear,  being  an  easier  and  irresistible  passion,  doth  oft  obscure  that 
measure  of  love  which  is  indeed  within  us ;  and  that  the  soul  of  a 
believer  groweth  up  by  degrees  from  the  more  troublesome  and 
safe  operation  of  fear,  to  the  more  high  and  excellent  operations  of 
complacential  love  ;  even  as  it  hath  more  of  the  sense  of  the  love 
of  God  in  Christ,  and  belief  of  the  heavenly  life  which  it  approach- 
eth ;  and  that  it  is  long  before  love  be  sensibly  predominant  in 
respect  of  fear,  (that  is,  of  self-love  and  self-preservation,)  though  at 
the  first  it  is  predominant  against  worldly  love.  And  I  found  that 
my  hearty  love  of  the  word  of  God  and  of  the  servants  of  God,  and 
my  desires  to  be  more  holy,  and  especially  the  hatred  of  my  heart 
for  loving  God  no  more,  and  my  love  to  love  him,  and  be  pleasing 
to  him,  was  not  without  some  love  to  himself,  though  it  worked 
more  sensibly  on  his  nearer  image. 

"  4.  Another  of  my  doubts  was  because  my  grief  and  humiliation 
were  no  greater,  and  because  I  could  weep  no  more  for  this.  But 
I  understood  at  last  that  God  breaketh  not  all  men's  hearts  alike, 
and  that  the  gradual  proceedings  of  his  grace  might  be  one  cause, 
and  my  nature  not  apt  to  weep  for  other  things,  another ;  and  that 
the  change  of  our  heart  from  sin  to  God  is  true  repentance,  and  a 
loathing  of  ourselves  is  true  humiliation ;  and  he  that  had  rather 
leave  his  sin,  than  have  leave  to  keep  it,  and  had  rather  be  the 
most  holy,  than  have  leave  to  be  unholy  or  less  holy,  is  neither 
without  true  repentance,  nor  the  love  of  God. 

"  5.  Another  of  my  doubts  was,  because  I  had,  after  my  change, 
committed  some  sins  deliberately  and  knowingly ;  and  be  they 
never  so  small,  I  thought  he  that  could  sin  upon  knowledge  and  de- 
liberation had  no  true  grace,  and  that  if  I  had  but  had  as  strong 
temptations  to  fornication,  drunkenness,  fraud,  or  other  more  hainous 
sins,  I  might  also  have  committed  them.  And  if  these  proved  that 
I  had  then  no  saving  grace,  after  all  that  I  had  felt,  1  thought  it 
unlikely  that  I  ever  should  have  any. 

"  This  stuck  with  me  longer  than  any ;  and  the  more,  because 
that  every  sin  which  I  knowingly  committed  did  renew  it ;  and  the 
terms  on  which  I  receive  consolation  against  it  are  these  ;  (not  as 
those  that  think  every  sin  against  knowledge  doth  nullify  all  our 
former  grace  and  unregenerate  us ;  and  that  every  time  we  repent 
of  such,  we  have  a  new  regeneration,  but) 

"  1.  All-saving  grace  doth  indeed  put  the  soul  into  a  state  of 
enmity  to  sin  as  sin,  and  consequently  to  every  known  sm. 

••  2.  This  enmity  must  show  itself  in  victory ;  for  bare  striving 

VOL.    I.  4 


26  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

wlien  we  are  overcome,  and  yielding  to  sin  when  we  have  awhile 
striven  against  it,  proveth  not  the  soul  to  be  sincere. 

"  3.  Yet  do  not  God's  children  always  overcome  ;  for  then  they 
should  not  sin  at  all ;  but  he  that  saith  he  hath  no  sin  deceiveth 
himself. 

"  4.  God's  children  always  overcome  those  temptations  which 
would  draw  them  to. a  wicked,  unholy  state  of  life,  and  would  un- 
regenerate  them,  and  change  their  state,  and  turn  them  back  from 
God  to  a  fleshly,  worldly  life  ;  and  also  to  any  particular  sin  which 
proveth  such  a  state,  and  signifieth  a  heart  which  hath  more  love 
to  the  world  than  to  God, — which 'may  well  be  called  a  mortal 
sin,  as  proving  the  sinner  in  a  state  of  death;  as  others  may  be 
called  venial  sins,  which  are  consistent  with  spiritual  life  and  a 
justified  state. 

".5.  Therefore,  whenever  a  justified  person  sinneth,the  tempta- 
tion at  that  time  prevaileth  against  the  Spirit  and  the  love  of  God ; 
not  to  the  extinction  of  the  love  of  God,  nor  the  destniction  of  the 
habit,  nor  the  setting  up  of  the  contrary  habit  in  predominance ;  as 
setting  up  the  habitual  love  of  any  sin  above  the  habitual  love  of 
God.  The  inclination  of  the  soul  is  still  most  to  God ;  and  he 
esteemeth  him  most,  and  prefen'eth  him  in  the  adherence  of  his 
will,  in  the  main  bent  and  course  of  heart  and  life  ;  only  he  is  over- 
come, and  so  far  abateth  the  actual  love  and  obedience  to  God,  as 
to  commit  this  particular  act  of  sin,  and  remit  or  omit  that  act  ol 
love. 

"  6.  And  this  it  is  possible  for  a  justified  person  to  do  upon  some 
deliberation  ;  for  as  grace  may  strive  one  instant  only  in  one  act, 
and  then  be  suddenly  overcome,  so  it  may  strive  longer,  and  keep 
the  mind  on  considerations  of  restraining  motives,  and  yet  be  over- 
come. 

"  7.  For  it  is  not  the  mere  length  of  consideration,  which  is 
enough  to  excite  the  heart  against  sin,  but  there  must  be  clearness 
of  light,  and  liveliness  in  those  considerations.  And  sometimes  a 
sudden  conviction  is  so  clear,  and  great,  and  sensible,  that  in  an 
instant  it  stirreth  up  tlie  soul  to  an  utter  abhorrence  of  the  tempta- 
tion, when  the  same  man  at  another  time  may  have  all  the  same 
thoughts  in  so  sleepy  a  degree  as  shall  not  prevail. 

"  8.  And  though  a  little  sin  must  be  hated,  and  universal  obedi- 
ence must  prove  our  sincerity,  and  no  one  sin  must  be  wilfully 
continued  in,  yet  it  is  certain  that  God's  seisvrnts  do  not  often 
commit  sins  materially  great  and  hainous,  (gj^rdtiiication,  drunken- 
ness, perjury,  oppression,  deceit,  etc.,)  and  yet  that  they  often 
commit  some  lesser  sins,  (as  idle  thoughts,  and  idls  words,  and 
dullness  in  holy  duties,  defectiveness  in  the  love  of  God,  and  omis- 
sion of  holy  thoughts  and  words,  etc.,)  and  that  the  tempter  often 


LIFE    OF    RfCHAUD    E.VXTEH.  '27 

getteth  advantage  even  with  them,  by  telling  that  the  sin  is  small, 
and  such  as  God's  servants  ordinarily  commit;  and  that,  naturally, 
we  fly  with  greater  fear  from  a  great  danger  than  from  a  less  ;  from 
a  wound  in  the  heart  than  from  a  cut  finger.  And  therefore  one 
reason  why  idle  words  and  sinful  thoughts  are,  even  deliberately, 
oftener  committed  than  most  hainous  sins,  is  because  the  soid  is  not 
awaked  so  much  by  fear  and  care  to  make  resistance ;  and  love 
needeth  the  help  of  fear  in  this  our  weak  condition. 

"  9.  And  it  is  certain  that  usually  the  servants  of  God,  being 
men  of  most  knowledge,  do  therefore  sin  against  more  knowledge 
than  others  do ;  for  there  are  but  few  sins  which  they  know  not  to 
be  sins.  They  know  that  idle  thoughts  and  words,  and  the  omis- 
sions of  the  contrary,  are  their  sins. 

"  10.  There  are  some  sins  of  such  difficulty  to  avoid,  (as  the 
disorder  or  omission  of  holy  thoughts,  and  the  defects  of  love  to 
God,  etc.,)  and  some  temptations  so  strong,  and  the  soul  in  so  slug- 
gish a  case  to  resist,  that  good  thoughts,  which  are  in  delibe- 
ration used  against  them,  are  borne  down  at  last,  and  are  less  ef- 
fectual. 

"11.  And  our  present  stock  of  habitual  grace  is  never  sufficient 
of  itself  without  co-operating  grace  from  Christ ;  and  therefore 
when  we  provoke  him  to  withhold  his  help,  no  wonder  if  we  show 
our  weakness,  so  far  as  to  stumble  in  the  way  to  heaven,  or  to 
step  out  into  some  by-path,  or  break  over  the  hedge,  and  some- 
times to  look  back,  and  yet  never  to  turn  back,  and  go  again  from 
God  to  the  world. 

"  12.  And  because  no  fall  of  a  saint  which  is  venial,  an  infirmity, 
consistent  with  grace,  doth  either  destroy  the  habit  of  love  and 
grace,  or  set  up  a  contrary  habit  above  it,  nor  yet  pervert  the  scope 
and  bent  of  the  conversation,  but  only  prevaileth  to  a  particular  act, 
it  therefore  followeth,  that  the  soul  riseth  up  from  such  a  sin  by  true 
repentance,  and  that  the  new  nature  or  habit  of  love  within  us  will 
work  out  the  sin  as  soon  as  it  hath  advantage ;  as  a  needle  in  the 
compass  will  return  to  its  proper  point,  when  the  force  that  moved 
it  doth  cease  ;  and  as  a  running  stream  will  turn  clear  again,  when 
the  force  that  muddied  it  is  past.  And  this  repentance  will  do 
much  to  increase  our  hatred  of  the  sin,  and  fortify  us  against  the 
next  temptation;  so  that  though  there  be  some  sins  which,  through 
our  great  infirmity,  we  daily  commit,  as  we  daily  repent  of  them, 
(as  disordered  thoughts,  defects  of  love,  neglect  of  God,  &;c.,)  yet 
it  will  not  be  so  with  those  sins  which  a  willing,  sincere,  habituated 
penitent  hath  more  in  his  power  to  cast  out. 

"  13.  And  yet  when  all  this  is  done,  sin  will  breed  fears  ;  (and 
the  more  by  how  much  the  more  deliberate  and  wilful  it  is ;)  and 
the  best  way  to  keep  under  doubts  and  terrors,  and  to  keep  up 


28  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

comfort,  is  to  keep  up  actual  obedience,  and  quickly  and  penitently 
return  when  we  have  sinned. 

"  This  much  I  thought  meet  to  say,  for  the  sake  of  others,  who 
may  fall  into  the  same  temptations  and  perplexities. 

"  The  means,  by  which  God  was  pleased  to  give  me  some  peace 
and  comfort,  were, 

"  1.  The  reading  of  many  consolatory  books. 

"2.  The  observation  of  other  men's  condition.  When  I  heard 
many  make  the  very  same  complaints  that  I  did,  who  were  people 
of  Avhom  I  had  the  best  esteem,  for  the  uprightness  and  holiness  of 
their  lives,  it  much  abated  my  fears  and  troubles.  And  in  partic- 
ular it  much  comforted  me  to  read  him  whom  I  loved  as  one  of 
the  holiest  of  all  the  martyrs,  Mr.  John  Bradford,  subscribing  him- 
self, so  often,  'the  hard-hearted  sinner;'  and  'the  miserable,  hard- 
hearted sinner,'  even  as  I  was  used  to  do  myself. 

"  3.  And  it  much  increased  my  peace  when  God's  providence 
called  me  to  the  comforting  many  others  that  had  the  same  com- 
plaints. While  I  answered  their  doubts,  I  answered  my  own  ;  and 
the  charity,  which  I  was  constrained  to  exercise  for  them,  redound- 
ed to  myself,  and  insensibly  abated  my  fears,  and  procured  me  an 
increase  of  quietness  of  mind. 

"  And  yet,  after  all,  I  was  glad  of  probabilities,  instead  of  full,  un- 
doubted certainties  ;  and  to  this  very  day,  though  I  have  no  such 
degree  of  doubtfulness  as  is  any  great  trouble  to  my  soul,  or  pro- 
curetli  any  great  disquieting  fears,  yet  cannot  I  say,  that  I  have 
such  a  certainty  of  my  own  sincerity  in  grace,  as  excludeth  all 
doubts  and  fears  of  the  contrary."* 

His  ill  health  increased  as  he  pursued  his  studies  after  his  return 
from  London  ;  and  the  spirituality  and  devotedness  of  his  mind 
seem  to  have  maintained  a  progress  corresponding  with  the  decay 
of  his  physical  system.  From  the  age  of  twenty-one  to  near  twenty- 
three,  he  had  no  expectation  of  surviving  a  single  year.  And  in 
these  circumstances,  so  cleai*  were  his  views  of  the  eternal  world 
and  its  interests,  that  he  was  exceedingly  desirous  to  communicate 
those  apprehensions  "to  such  ignorant,  presumptuous,  careless  sin- 
ners as  the  world  aboundeth  with."  As  he  thought  of  preaching, 
he  felt  many  discouragements.  He  not  only  knew  that  the  want 
of  university  honors  and  titles  was  likely  to  diminish  the  estimation 
in  which  he  would  be  held,  and  the  respect  with  which  he  would 
be  heard  by  many ;  but  he  was  conscious  of  the  actual  defects  of 
his  education,  and  felt  deeply  all  his  personal  insufficiency.  "But 
yet,"  he  adds,  "  expecting  to  be  so  quickly  in  another  world,  the 
jrreat  concernments  of  miserable  souls  did  prevail  with  me  against 

"Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  (i — 9. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  29 

all  these  impediments ;  and  being  conscious  of  a  thirsty  desire  of 
men's  conversion  and  salvation,  and  of  some  competent  persuading 
faculty  of  expression,  u  hich  fervent  affections  might  help  to  actu- 
ate, I  resolved  that  if  one  or  two  souls  only  might  be  won  to  God, 
it  would  easily  recompense  all  the  dishonor  which,  for  want  of 
titles,  I  might  undergo  from  men.  And  indeed  I  had  such  clear 
convictions  of  the  madness  of  secure,  presumptuous  sinners,  and  the 
unquestionable  reasons  which  should  induce  men  to  a  holy  life,  and 
of  the  unspeakable  greatness  of  that  work  which  in  this  hasty  inch 
of  time  we  have  all  to  do,  that  I  thought  that  a  man  that  could  be 
ungodly  if  he  did  but  hear  these  things,  was  fitter  for  Bedlam  than 
for  the  reputation  of  a  sober,  rational  man."*  The  man  who  un- 
dertakes the  ministry  with  such  views,-  and  has  a  fair  opportunity 
to  exercise  that  ministry,  never  will  fail  to  be  successful,  so  long 
as  the  gospel  is  the  wisdom  of  God  and  the  power  of  God  to 
salvation. 

As  yet,  he  had  not  entered  into  the  questions  on  w^hich  the 
church  of  England  was  divided.  While  young,  he  had  never  been 
acquainted  with  any  who  reHised  to  conform  to  the  established 
order  and  ceremonies  of  the  church.  He  was  twenty  years  of  age 
when  he  first  formed  an  acquaintance  with  a  few  zealous  and  de- 
voted non-conforming  ministers  in  Shrewsbury  and  the  vicinity, 
whose  fervent  prayers,  and  spiritual  conversation,  and  holy  lives, 
were  highly  profitable  to  him ;  and  when  he  found  that  these  men 
were  troubled  and  vexed  by  the  ecclesiastical  authorities,  he  could 
not  but  be  somewhat  prejudiced  in  their  favor,  and  began  to  doubt 
whether  their  opposers  "  could  be  the  genuine  followers  of  the 
Lord  of  love."  Yet  he  resolved  to  hold  his  judgment  in  suspense 
till  he  should  have  an  opportunity  to  investigate  the  subject.  And 
his  prepossessions,  generally,  were  in  favor  of  conformity.  He  had 
been  educated  in  that  way.  Mr.  Garbet  and  the  other  ministers 
witii  whom  he  was  most  intimate,  on  whom  he  depended  for  direc- 
tion in  his  studies,  and  to  whom  he  looked  with  much  deference 
to  their  learning,  as  well  as  with  respect  for  their  piety,  were  decid- 
ed conformists.  The  only  Puritan  books  which  he  liad  read  had 
been  books  of  practical  religion ;  for  books  against  the  order  and 
ceremonies  of  the  church  were  in  those  days  not  easily  circulated. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  his  instmcters  and  friends  had  put  into  his 
hands  all  the  works  which  were  then  considered  the  best  in  defense 
of  their  opinions  and  practice.  Thus  being  led  to  think  in  general 
that  the  confomiists  had  the  better  side  of  the  question,  he  had 
no  scruple  about  the  subscription  required  at  ordination.  At  about 
twenty-three  years  of  age,  he  was  ordained.  In  due  form,  according 
to  the  ritual  of  the  church  of  England,  by  the  bishop  of  Worcester. 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  1'2. 


30  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

His  first  station  was  at  Dudley,  in  Worcestershire,  where,  by  the 
interest  of  a  friend  with  the  patron,  he  had  obtained  a  place,  as 
master  of  a  free  school,  with  an  usher.  This  situation  accorded 
witli  his  wishes ;  for  it  gave  him  opportunity  to  preach  in  destitute 
places,  and  at  the  same  time  relieved  him  of  the  responsibility  of  a 
pastoral  charge,  which  he  felt  unwilling  to  sustain  at  the  com- 
mencement of  his  ministry. 

In  this  place  he  soon  found  himself  compelled  to  enter  on  the 
examination  of  the  great  controversy  of  those  times.  He  found 
that  many  private  Christians  in  that  neighborhood  were  non-con- 
formists ;  one  of  them  resided  under  the  same  roof  with  him.  The 
dispute  took  so  strong  a  hold  on  the  religious  community  around 
him,  that  he  soon  resolved  on  a  serious  and  impartial  investigation. 
The  result  of  his  inquiries  at  that  time  is  worth  stating,  as  it  shows 
what  were  the  disputed  questions  of  the  day. 

In  regard  to  episcopacy  he  had  then  no  difficulty  ;  for  he  had  not, 
at  that  time,  noticed  the  difference  between  arguments  for  an  epis- 
copacy m  the  abstract,  and  arguments  for  the  particular  "diocesan 
episcopacy  which  existed  in  England.  On  the  question  of  kneel- 
ing at  the  Lord's  snjyper,  he  was  fully  satisfied  that  conformity  was 
lawful.  In  regard  to  the  surplice,  he  doubted ;  he  would  not  wear 
it  unless  compelled  to  on  pain  of  expulsion  from  the  ministry  ;  and 
the  fact  was  he  never  wore  it  in  his  life.  Respecting  the  ring  in 
marriage,  he  had  no  scmple.  The  cross  in  baptism  he  thought 
unlawfial,  though  he  felt  some  doubt  respecting  it ;  and  therefore 
he  never  used  it.  A.  form  of  prayer,  he  considered  m  itself  law- 
ful ;  and  he  thought  such  a  form  might  be  prescribed  by  public  au- 
thority ;  and  though  he  regarded  the  English  liturgy  as  objectionable 
"on  account  of  its  "disorder  and  defectiveness,"  his  conclusion  was, 
that  it  might  be  used,  in  the  ordinary  public  worship,  by  such  as 
Iiad  no  liberty  to  do  better.  The  want  of  discipline  in  the  church 
was  in  his  view  a  gi'eat  evil ;  though  he  "  did  not  then  understand 
that  the  very  frame  of  diocesan  prelacy  excluded  it,"  but  supposed 
that  the  bishops  might  have  remedied  that  evil  if  they  would.  The 
subscription  required  before  ordination  he  now  began  to  disapprove  ; 
and  he  blamed  himself  for  having  yielded  to  that  claim.  So,  from 
this  time,  he  became,  as  he  says,  a  non-conformist  to  these  three 
things — ■"  subscription,  and  the  cross  in  baptism,  and  the  promiscu- 
ous giving  of  the  Lord's  supper  to  all  drunkards,  swearers,  fornica- 
tors, scorners  at  godliness,  etc.,  that  are  not  excommunicated  by  a 
bisliop  or  chancellor  that  is  out  of  their  acquaintance."  Still  he 
was  far  from  acting  with  the  more  zealous  and  thorough  non-con- 
formists. He  often  debated  the  matter  with  them  ;  for  he  regarded 
the  disposition  which  some  of  them  had  to  forsake  and  renoimce  the 
established  church,  as  a  serious  and  threatening  evil.      He  labored 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  31 

to  repress  tlieir  censoriousness,  and  the  boldness  and  bitterness  of 
their  language  against  the  bishops,  and  to  reduce  them  to  greater 
patience  and  charity.  "  But  I  found,"  he  adds,  "  that  their  suffer- 
ings from  the  bishops  were  the  great  impediment  to  my  success ; 
and  he  that  will  blow  the  coals  must  not  wonder  if  some  sparks  do 
fly  in  his  face ;  and  that  to  persecute  men,  and  then  call  them  to 
charity,  is  like  whipping  children  to  make  them  give  over  crying. 
The  stronger  sort  of  Christians  can  bear  mulcts,  and  imprisonments, 
and  reproaches,  for  obeying  God  and  conscience,  without  abating 
their  charity  to  their  persecutors ;  but  to  expect  this  from  all  the 
weak  and  injudicious,  the  young  and  passionate,  is  against  all  reason 
and  experience.  I  saw  that  he  that  will  be  loved,  must  love  ;  and 
he  that  rather  chooseth  to  be  more  feared  than  loved,  must  expect 
to  be  hated,  or  loved  but  diminutively.  And  he  that  will  have 
children,  must  be  a  father  ;  and  he  that  will  be  a  tyrant,  must  be 
contented  with  slaves." 

He  occupied  his  post  at  Dudley  only  nine  months.  The  people 
were  of  a  degraded  class,  having  been  much  addicted  to  drunken- 
ness ;  but  his  labors  among  them  were  attended  with  an  encourag- 
ing measure  of  success.  Being  invited  to  Bridgenorth,  the  second 
town  in  his  native  county,  to  preach  there  as  assistant  to  the  worthy 
pastor  of  that  place,  he  left  his  school,  and  thenceforward  had  no 
work  but  that  of  the  ministry.  At  Bridgenorth  he  had  an  excel- 
lent colleague,  a  full  congregation,  and,  owing  to  some  peculiar  cir- 
cumstances, a  freedom  from  all  those  things  respecting  which  he 
had  scruples  or  objections. 

The  people  to  whom  he  here  preached  were  "  ignorant  and  dead- 
hearted."  The  town  was  one  which  afforded  the  people  no  uniform 
and  regular  employment,  and  at  the  same  time  was  full  of  inns  and 
alehouses.  Of  course  he  labored  at  a  great  disadvantage.  His 
preaching,  however,  was  very  popular,  and  was  blessed  to  the  con- 
version of  some  of  his  hearers.  But  the  tippling,  and  evil-commu- 
nications, and  stupidity,  of  the  people  were  such,  that  though,  as  he 
says,  he  never  preached  any  where  with  more  fervor  or  with  more 
vehement  desires  for  the  conversion  of  his  hearers,  his  success  was 
much  less  than  it  afterwards  was  in  other  places. 

While  Baxter  continued  at  Bridgenorth,  the  controversy,  civil 
and  ecclesiastical,  which  had  so  long  been  growing  up,  and  which 
from  year  to  year  had  agitated  the  nation  with  a  deeper  and  strong- 
er interest,  broke  out  in  those  commotions  which  overturned  the 
hierarchy  and  the  throne.  A  brief  view  of  the  progress  of  affairs 
from  the  beginning  of  this  reign  seems  proper  in  this  connection,  as 
the  means  of  illustrating  to  readers  not  familiar  with  the  details  of 
English  history  many  events  recorded  or  rcfen-ed  to  in  the  sequel 
of  this  naiTative. 


32  LIFE    OF    RICHAED    BAXTER. 

Charles  I.  succeeded  to  the  throne  of  his  father  at  the  age  of 
twenty-five,  in  circumstances  which  demanded  of  the  chief  magis- 
trate not  so  much  great  force  and  splendid  talents,  as  good  common 
sense,  and  plain  common  honesty,  directed  by  a  spirit  of  kindness 
towards  the  people.  The  English  nation  had  long  been  accustom- 
ed to  some  measure  of  freedom  ;  and  though  the  constitution  of  the 
kingdom  was  not  then  that  well-defined  system  of  distributed  and 
balanced  powers  which  it  now  is,  and  though  sovereigns  had  often 
transcended  the  bounds  of  law,  and  in  many  instances  had  made 
their  own  will  their  rule  of  government,  it  had  been  well  under- 
stood, from  the  earliest  ages,  that  the  rights  of  the  subject  were  as 
real  as  the  prerogative  of  the  monarch.  The  monarchy  had  always 
been  limited,  not  only,  like  every  other  ancient  monarchy  in  Eu- 
rope, by  the  nature  of  the  feudal  system,  but  limited  still  more  by 
many  a  provision  for  the  security  of  individual  rights.  And  though 
the  boundaries  of  power  seem  to  have  advanced  and  receded  from 
time  to  time,  as  the  monarch  was  more  or  less  energetic,  or  as  the 
barons  and  people  were  more  or  less  spirited  in  the  assertion  of 
their  rights,  it  was  at  every  period,  and  under  every  reign,  an  indis- 
putable pruiciple  of  English  freedom,  that  no  man  could  be  right- 
fiilly  deprived  of  property  or  liberty  but  in  the  course  of  law,  and 
that  no  law  could  be  made  but  by  the  consent  of  the  people  ex- 
pressed in  parliament.  James  I.  himself,  a  foreigner  in  England, 
and  having  neither  knowledge  of  the  English  character  nor  sympa- 
thy with  the  English  spirit,  attempted  to  govern  on  the  most  arbi- 
trary principles.  The  other  monarchs  of  Europe,  having  gradually 
undermined,  or  violently  overthrown,  the  barriers  of  the  old  feudal 
constitutions,  had  made  themselves  absolute ;  and  the  successor  of 
Elizabeth,  so  far  as  he  was  capable  of  forming  or  comprehending 
any  scheme  of  policy,  pursued  his  measures  with  reference  to  a 
similar  result.  Had  he  been  as  much  of  a  man  as  she  was  to  whose 
throne  he  succeeded,  his  success  might  not  have  been  quite  impossi- 
ble. As  it  was,  his  imbecile  efforts  to  play  the  absolute  monarch  at 
once  roused  in  his  subjects  the  spirit  to  assert  their  rights,  and  gave 
them  strength  to  resist  aggression.  He  died  baffled,  disgi'aced,  de- 
spised and  unlamented  ;  and  his  son  inherited,  not  only  his  throne,  al- 
ready beginning  to  be  undermined,  but  his  weak  and  vacillating  judg- 
ment, his  faithless  disposition,  his  principles  of  usurpation  and  arbitra- 
ry misrule,  his  love  of  ecclesiastical  pomp  and  ceremony,  and  even 
his  subjection  to  the  influence  of  a  worthless  and  odious  favorite. 

The  first  important  act  of  Charles,  after  his  accession,  was  his 
marriage  with  Henrietta,  a  sister  of  the  king  of  France,  which  had 
been  agreed  on  during  the  lifetime  of  his  father.  The  bride 
brought  with  her  into  the  kingdom  a  retinue  of  Romish  servants, 
priests  and  courtiers,  who,  by  the  marriage  treaty,  were  to  be  allow- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  33 

ed  the  uninterrupted  exercise  of  all  the  rites  of  their  religion. 
Hardly  any  thing  could  have  been  more  obnoxious  to  the  Protestant 
feelings  of  the  nation  than  the  insolence  of  these  privileged  foreign- 
ers. The  queen  of  England  was  seen  walking  tlirough  the  streets 
of  the  city  to  do  penance,  "her  confessor  meanwhile  riding  by  her 
in  his  coach  ;"  and,  as  if  on  purpose  to  rouse  popular  indignation  into 
frenzy,  her  priests  led  her  to  Tyburn,  "  there  to  present  her  devo- 
tions for  the  departed  souls  of  the  Papists  who  had  been  executed 
at  that  place,  on  account  of  the  gunpowder  treason,  and  other 
enormous  crimes."*  If  any  thing  had  been  wanting  to  excite  pre- 
judice against  the  superstitions  of  Rome,  or  against  the  court  as 
inclined  to  Popery,  such  proceedings  were  best  adapted  to  that  end. 
The  parliament,  assembled  by  the  young  monarch  at  Westmin- 
ster immediately  after  the  arrival  of  the  queen,  and  thence  adjourn- 
ed to  Oxford  on  account  of  the  plague,  betrayed  a  new  spirit,  and 
gave  decided  indications  that  the  time  had  come  in  which  the  peo- 
ple would  be  heard,  and  would  make  their  rights  respected.  There 
were  men  in  the  house  of  commons  who  were  conscious  of  the  in- 
creased political  importance  which  the  increase  of  wealth  and  intel- 
ligence had  given  to  the  middling  classes ;  who  had  witnessed, 
during  the  preceding  reigns,  the  encroachments  of  arbitrary  power 
on  the  ancient  privileges  of  the  people ;  and  who  saw  that  the  ac- 
cession of  a  new  prince,  involved  in  war,  embarrassed  with  debt, 
and  guided  by  a  weak  and  odious  favorite,  afforded  them  the  best 
opportunity  to  assert  their  rights,  and  to  erect  new  barriers  against 
future  usurpation.  Accordingly,  when  called  upon  to  replenish  the 
royal  treasury,  they  began  by  voting  a  supply  so  limited  as  to 
keep  the  court  still  dependent  on  the  commons,  and  to  secure  for 
themselves  the  vantage  ground  in  negotiating  for  the  redress  of 
grievances.  To  the  king's  explanations  of  his  necessities  and  his 
engagements  they  were  inexorable  ;  and  instead  of  giving  money 
to  make  him  independent  of  his  people,  they  joined  in  a  petition 
setting  forth  the  causes  of  the  increase  of  Popery,  with  an  enume- 
ration of  such  remedies  as,  in  their  judgment,  ought  to  be  applied. 
Among  the  remedies,  they  proposed  "  that  the  preaching  of  the  word 
of  God  might  be  enlarged,  and  that,  to  this  purpose,  the  bishops  be 
advised  to  make  use  of  the  labors  of  such  able  ministers  as  have 
been  formerly  silenced,  advising  and  beseeching  them  to  behave 
themselves  peaceably."  The  king's  answer  was  full  of  compliance, 
especially  and  repeatedly  promising  that  the  laws  against  Popery 
should  be  put  in  execution  ;  and  the  next  day,  his  special  warrant, 
releasing  eleven  Popish  priests  from  prison,  gave  them  a  practical 


*  H    L'Estran^e's  View  of  King  Charles,  quoted  in  the  ••  Selection  from  the 
Harleiaji  Miscellany,"  p.  331.     London,  17fl3. 
VOL.    I.  5 


34  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

illustration  of  his  fidelity  to  his  engagements.  A  law  was  passed 
(which  was  never  executed,  and  which  the  Icing  not  many  years 
afterwards  set  aside  by  proclamation)  for  the  prevention  of  unlaw- 
ful pastimes  on  the  Lord's  day.  Some  other  proceedings  helped 
to  show  the  strong  and  determined  spirit  of  the  commons  in  rela- 
tion to  the  questions  between  the  party  of  the  court  and  the  pre- 
lates on  the  one  hand,  and  the  party  of  the  people  and  the 
Puritans  on  the  other.  The  king  saw  that,  if  such  a  parliament 
continued,  he  must  be  content  with  the  condition  of  a  limited  mon- 
arch, and  must  secure  the  affections  of  the  people  by  conducting 
his  administration  for  their  benefit.  Determined  not  to  yield,  he 
dissolved  the  parliament,  and  made  a  feeble  and  unpopular  effort 
to  raise  money  by  way  of  loan,  taxing  individuals  according  to 
their  estimated  ability,  and  promising  repayment  at  the  end  of  eigh- 
teen months. 

The  resources  thus  secured  were  soon  exhausted  in  an  ill-con- 
ducted and  abortive  enterprise,  the  object  of  which  was  to  inter- 
cept and  plunder  the  Spanish  fleet  as  it  returned  laden  with  the 
product  of  the  mines  of  South  America.  Another  parliament  was 
called,  which,  like  the  preceding,  first  voted  a  limited  supply,  and 
then  immediately  took  up  the  subject  of  grievances.  An  impeach- 
ment of  the  duke  of  Buckingham,  the  obnoxious  prime  minister, 
was  undertaken  with  much  zeal.  The  king,  who  seems  to  have 
had  little  knowledge  of  the  genius  of  the  nation  which  he  govern- 
ed, and  as  little  of  the  principles  of  human  nature,  took  every  op- 
portunity to  manifest  his  contempt  of  the  commons.  Besides 
lesser  measures  of  irritation,  he  imprisoned  two  members  of  the 
house,  employed  as  managers  of  the  impeachment ;  and  then  was 
obliged  to  release  them.  He  sent  his  commands  to  the  house  to 
enlarge  and  finish  the  bill  for  a  supply ;  for,  though  the  supply  was 
voted,  it  had  not  yet  become  a  law.  At  the  same  time  he  threat- 
ened them,  both  by  a  message,  and  in  the  speeches  of  his  minis- 
ters, that,  if  he  found  them  still  uncomplying,  he  should  try  "  new 
counsels."*     After  a  short  session,  the  parliament  was  dissolved, 

*  "  I  pray  you  consider,"  said  Sir  Dudley  Carleton,  vice  chamberlain,  in  the 
house  of  commons,  "  what  these  new  coimsels  are,  or  may  be.  I  fear  to  de- 
clare those  that  I  conceive.  In  all  Christian  kingdoms,  you  know  that  parlia- 
ments were  in  use  anciently,  by  which  those  kingdoms  were  governed  in  a 
most  flourishing  manner ;  until  the  monarchs  began  to  know  their  own  strength, 
and  seeing  the  turbulent  spirit  of  their  parhaments,  at  length  they,  by  little  and 
little,  began  to  stand  on  their  prerogatives,  and  at  last  overthrew  the  parliaments 
throughout  Christendom,  except  here  only  with  us.  Let  us  be  careful,  then,  to 
preserve  the  king's  good  opinion  of  parliaments,  which  bringeth  such  happiness 
to  the  nation,  and  makes  us  envied  of  all  others,  while  there  is  this  sweetness 
between  his  majesty  and  the  commons;  lest  we  lose  the  repute  of  a  free  people, 
by  our  turbulency  in  parliament."  Hume's  History  of  England.  Vol.  HI.  pp. 
360,361.     Philad.  1828. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  35 

before  any  important  business  had  been  finished,  before  even  tlie 
vote  for  a  supply  had  been  passed  into  a  law. 

There  was  an  interval  of  two  years  before  the  assembling  of 
another  parliament.  In  this  interval  the  king  made  some  experi- 
ment of  the  new  counsels  which  he  had  threatened.  Various  ir- 
regular and  arbitrary  measures  were  employed  to  provide  a  reve- 
nue. These  were  of  course  unpopular,  and  were  pursued  with 
characteristic  inefficiency,  till,  by  the  event  of  a  battle  on  the  con- 
tinent, a  new  emergency  arose  in  the  king's  affairs.  Then,  the 
want  of  money  in  the  treasury  having  become  more  pressing,  and 
the  insufficiency  of  halfway  measures  more  glaring  than  ever,  an 
act  of  council  was  passed,  and  duly  promulgated,  demanding  of 
each  subject  just  what  he  would  have  paid  had  the  proposed  sup- 
ply been  granted  by  the  parliament.  The  people,  however,  were 
informed,  for  their  satisfaction,  that  the  sums  exacted  were  to  be 
called  loans,  and  not  taxes.  To  enforce  the  payment  of  this  reve- 
nue, soldiers  were  quartered  upon  the  refractory ;  and  he  who  de- 
clined lending  his  money  to  the  king,  found  that  refiisal  was  likely 
to  cost  more  than  submission.  Those  who  went  so  far  as  to  per- 
suade or  encourage  others  to  refuse,  were  thrown  into  prison. 
Appeal  was  made  to  the  law  against  such  invasion  of  personal  lib- 
erty ;  but  the  courts  of  justice,  newly  organized  by  the  king  to 
meet  the  emergency,  refused  to  sustain  the  appeal. 

At  the  same  time,  that  usurpation  might  not  want  the  sanctions 
of  religion,  the  court  clergy  were  employed  to  aid  these  despotic 
proceedings,  by  preaching  up  the  duty  of  passive  obedience,  and 
the  divine  right  of  kings  to  govern  without  check  or  responsibility. 
Among  these,  one  Dr.  Sibthorp  became  distinguished  by  circum- 
stances. Having  preached,  on  some  public  occasion,  a  sermon  full 
of  the  court  doctrine,  he  dedicated  it  to  the  king,  and  carried  it  to 
archbishop  Abbot  to  be  licensed  for  the  press.  The  good  old 
primate,  who  was  half  a  Puritan, and  altogether  a  Protestant,  refiised 
to  sanction  such  doctrine,  and  was  therefore  suspended  from  the 
fianctions  of  his  office,  and  compelled  to  retire  in  disgrace  to  a 
country  residence.  Another  of  these  preachers,  Dr.  Manwaring, 
was  distinguished  still  more,  not  only  by  the  boldness  with  which 
he  carried  out  his  principles,  but  by  the  favor  with  which  he  was 
regarded  by  the  court.  In  two  sermons  preached  before  the  king, 
and  published  by  the  king's  command,  he  taught,  among  other  mat- 
ters, as  follows — "  The  king  is  not  bound  to  observe  the  laws  of  the 
realm  concerning  the  subject's  rights  and  liberties,  but  his  royal 
will  and  pleasure,  in  imposing  taxes  without  consent  of  parliament, 
doth  oblige  the  subject's  conscience  on  pain  of  damnation." 
These  were  the  doctrines  which  the  dominant  party  in  the  church 
took  pains  to  propagate  in  that  day  of  usurpation  and  national 
danger. 


36  LIFE    OF    RICHAIID    BAXTER. 

While  the  nation  was  in  this  state  of  angry  and  growing  excite- 
ment, the  king — as  if  a  war  with  the  house  of  Austria,  which  then 
governed  both  Spain  and  Germany,  were  not  embaiTassment  enough 
— engaged  in  a  new  war  with  France,  merely  to  gratify  the  caprice 
and  passion  of  his  favorite.  One  expedition  was  fitted  out  under 
the  command  of  Buckingham,  which  speedily  teraiinated  in  disas- 
ter and  shame.  Nothing  now  remained  for  the  baffled  monarch, 
but  to  try  once  more  the  expedient  of  calling  the  great  council  of 
the  kingdom. 

The  third  parliament  of  this  reign  accordingly  met  in  March, 
1628.  At  the  opening  of  this  parliament,  the  king,  instead  ot 
making  an  acknowledgment  of  his  past  errors,  or  any  promise  of 
a  more  liberal  and  legal  administration  in  future,  boldly  declared, 
as  if  the  absolute  power  at  which  he  was  aiming  were  already  con- 
solidated, that,  if  they  failed  in  their  duty  of  providing  for  the  ne- 
cessities of  the  state,  "he  must,  in  discharge  of  his  conscience,  use 
those  other  means  which  God  had  put  into  his  hands."  And  the 
same  claims  of  power  were  advanced  under  his  direction,  in  lan- 
guage still  more  direct  and  offensive,  by  some  of  his  ministers. 
Thus  evident  was  it  that  the  king,  nothing  wiser  by  experience, 
was  still  bent  on  changing  the  constitution  of  the  kingdom,  and  re- 
moving every  limitation  of  his  power.  In  these  circumstances,  the 
parliament  conducted  themselves  with  a  deliberate  and  prudent 
firmness,  which  deserves  the  highest  admiration.  They  began  by 
voting  a  supply,  which  Charles  himself,  moved  to  tears  by  a  liber- 
ality almost  vinexpected,  acknowledged  to  be  -ample  ;  but  they 
wisely  refused  to  pass  their  vote  into  a  law,  till  the  king,  after  much 
reluctance,  and  many  a  pitiful  evasion,  had  given  his  unqualified 
assent  to  a  bill  called  the  "  petition  of  right,"  which  they  had 
framed  v/ith  reference  to  the  late  arbitrary  measures  of  the  court,  in 
the  hope  of  securing  in  future  the  ancient  privileges  of  Englishmen. 
But  while  Buckingham  retained  his  ascendency,  they  could  feel  no 
security.  They  went  on  with  the  investigation  of  abuses,  and  soon 
presented  a  remonstrance  recapitulating  the  public  gi'ievances  and 
national  disasters  of  the  reign,  and  ascribing  them  all  to  the  mis- 
management of  Buckingham.  As  they  were  proceeding  in  an- 
other remonstrance,  the  session  was  suddenly  closed  by  a  proro- 
gation. 

In  one  particular,  of  no  great  moment  in  itself,  but  worthy  to  be 
noticed,  on  account  of  its  significance,  the  court,  immediately  after 
this  prorogation,  showed  its  contempt  for  the  voice  of  parliament, 
and  its  persevering  and  daring  adherence  to  the  principles  of  des- 
potism. The  lords,  on  the  impeachment  of  the  commons,  had 
condemned  Dr.  Manwaring,  for  his  sermons  above  mentioned,  to 
be  imprisoned  during  the  pleasure  of  the  house,  to  be  fined  a  thou- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  .    37 

sand  pounds,  to  make  submission  and  acknowledgment,  to  be  sus- 
pended three  years,  and  to  be  incapable  of  holding  any  ecclesiasti- 
cal dignity,  or  secular  office.  As  soon  as  the  session  was  closed, 
the  condemned  criminal  was  not  only  pardoned  by  the  king,  but, 
as  if  he  had  earned  a  reward,  was  prefened  to  a  valuable  living, 
and  a  few  years  afterwards  raised  to  a  bishopric.  About  the  same 
time,  Sibthorp  received  a  similar  reward ;  and  Montague,  another 
preacher  and  author  of  the  same  school,  who,  like  Manwaring,  was 
under  the  censure  of  parliament,  was  elevated  to  a  seat  among  the 
bishops.  Demonstration  was  thus  afforded,  that  the  king,  after  all 
his  concessions,  was  still  in  principle  a  despot. 

Not  long  after  the  prorogation  of  the  parliament,  all  further 
proceedings  against  Buckingham,  and  all  his  schemes  of  mischief, 
were  arrested  by  the  dagger  of  an  insane  assassin.  From  this 
time,  the  prime  minister,  in  church  and  in  state,  was  William 
Laud,  then  bishop  of  London,  and  soon  afterwards  archbishop  of 
Canterbury. 

When  the  parliament  came  together  according  to  prorogation, 
early  in  the  following  year,  (1629,)  they  found  new  evidence  of 
the  king's  unfaithfulness — evidence  which  must  have  wrought  in 
many  a  mind  the  conviction  that  no  confidence  could  be  reposed 
in  either  his  concessions  or  his  promises.  Not  only  had  unauthor- 
ized taxes  been  levied,  and  illegal  punishments  been  inflicted,  as 
before,  but  the  all-important  petition  of  right,  as  published  by  au- 
thority, instead  of  bearing  that  unqualified  royal  assent  which  made 
it  a  law,  iiad,  annexed  to  it,  only  an  evasive  and  unmeaning  answer 
from  the  king,  which  the  parliament  had  reflised  to  acknowledge 
as  satisfactory.  By  such  treacheries,  so  weak,  so  profligate,  so 
contemptible,  did  this  ill-starred  monarch  forfeit  the  confidence  of 
his  people,  and  make  his  own  ruin  inevitable.  After  all  that  had 
now  been  developed,  what  cordiality  or  co-operation  could  there 
be  between  the  king  and  the  parliament  ?  Whatever  followed  was 
only  the  necessary  result  of  what  had  gone  before.  The  king  was 
determined,  and  so  were  the  people.  The  king  was  detemiined 
to  be  independent  and  absolute.  The  people  were  determined  to 
submit  to  no  authority  but  that  which  was  lawful.  The  result 
could  not  have  been  avoided  but  by  the  people's  abandoning  their 
rights,  and  lying  down  to  be  trodden  into  the  earth  by  the  iron 
hoof  of  usurpation,  or  by  the  king's  abandoning  his  principles,  and 
becoming,  what  so  few  kings  have  ever  been,  a  plain  and  honest 
lover  of  his  country. 

A  bill  had  been  introduced  into  the  house  of  commons,  for 
granting  to  the  king,  what  he  had  levied  from  the  beginning  of 
his  reign  without  law,  and  against  many  complaifits  both  of  par- 
liament and  of  people,  the  customary  taxes  on  commerce.     But 


38  .  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

before  passing  the  bill,  the  house,  for  the  sake  of  securing  an  im- 
portant principle,  insisted  that  the  unauthorized  collection  of  this 
revenue  should  cease.  This  the  king  refused ;  and  his  custom- 
house officers  proceeded  with  their  collections.  The  officers  were 
summoned  to  the  bar  of  the  house ;  but  the  king  sent  a  message 
to  the  commons,  implymg  that  he  was  responsible  for  the  acts  com- 
plained of.  The  house  were  still  bent  on  proceeding;  but  the 
speaker,  having  received  orders  from  the  king,  refused  to  put  the 
question.  A  short  protestation  was  framed  and  passed  by  accla- 
mation, while  the  speaker  was  forcibly  detained  in  the  chair ;  and 
the  house  was  then  adjourned  by  the  king's  authority.  Imme- 
diately afterwards,  the  parliament  was  dissolved.  And  soon  a 
proclamation  was  published,  in  which  the  king  very  clearly  avow- 
ed •  his  intention  to  have  no  more  to  do  with  parliaments  for  the 
present. 

For  the  twelve  succeeding  years,  Charles  reigned,  very  much 
as  he  had  always  been  trying  to  reign,  the  absolute  monarch.  Un- 
der this  new  constitution,  as  it  might  be  called,  the  Council  was 
the  legislative,  and  the  Star  Chamber  and  High  Commission  were 
the  most  important  branches  of  the  judiciary.  The  king's  procla- 
mations and  orders  in  council  were  the  law  of  the  land.  By  this 
authority,  not  only  the  ancient  taxes  of  tonnage  and  poundage,' 
against  which  parliament  had  protested,  were  continued,  but  new 
imposts  were  collected.  Under  the  name  of  ship-money,  direct 
taxes  were  levied  for  the  support  of  the  navy.  Numerous  and  odi- 
ous monopolies  were  erected  ;  and  other  measures  for  providing  a 
revenue  were  resorted  to.  For  every  disobedience  to  the  law  en- 
acted at  the  council-table,  the  offender  was  liable  to  be  tried  before 
the  same  persons  assembled  in  the  star  chamber,  and  to  be  pun- 
ished with  fine,  imprisonment,  pillory,  or  mutilation,  at  the  discre- 
tion of  the  court.  The  fines  imposed  by  this  court  seem  to  have 
been  no  inconsiderable  part  of  the  ways  and  means.  The  high 
commission  was  an  ecclesiastical  court  erected  on  the  basis  of  the 
king's  supremacy,  which,  contrary  to  acts  of  parliament  and  ju- 
dicial sentences,  had  usurped  the  power  of  fining,  imprisoning,  and 
inflicting  corporal  punishment  for  ecclesiastical  offenses.  It  was 
during  this  twelve  years'  despotism  that  those  Puritans  fled  from 
England,  who  settled  the  New  England  colonies.  Four  thousand 
persons  became  voluntary  exiles,  rather  than  submit  to  the  system 
which  then  prevailed  in  the  church  and  state.  Some  indication  of 
the  character  and  standing  of  these  exiles  is  afforded  by  the 
fact  that  their  removal  is  supposed  to  have  drawn  from  the 
kingdom  money  to  the  amount  of  four  or  five  hundred  thousand 
pounds. 

All  this  apparatus  of  despotism  was  under  the  control  of  Laud ; 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  39 

and  he  employed  it  all,  with  the  zeal  of  a  fanatic,  to  root  out  Puri- 
tanism, and  to  promote  those  Popish  principles  and  practices  with 
which  (though  himself  an  enemy  to  the  court  of  Rome)  he  was  so 
enamored.  The  mind  of  Charles  was  one  of  that  class  to  which 
such  notions  are  most  congenial.  He  verily  thought,  as  Laud  did, 
that  a  Puritan  was  far  worse  than  a  Papist ;  and  that,  among  all  the 
errors  of  the  church  of  Rome,  there  was  not  one  so  deadly  as  the 
error  of  supposing  that  there  might  be  a  true  church  without  pre- 
lates or  priestly  vestments,  and  without  liturgy  or  pompous  cere- 
monies. It  was  therefore  no  difficult  matter  for  the  primate  to 
persuade  the  monarch  that  he  would  be  doing  God  service  by 
stretching  his  prerogative  to  introduce  into  Scotland,  not  only  the 
entire  hierarchy,  but  the  liturgy  and  ceremonies  of  the  church  of 
England.  The  insane  attempt  roused  that  jealous  and  turbulent 
people  to  rebellion.  A  solemn  covenant  for  mutual  defence  and 
support,  and  for  the  entire  refomiation  of  their  national  church 
from  Popery  and  prelacy,  was  subscribed  with  oaths  by  willing 
thousands,  and  proved  a  bond  of  union  which  all  the  art  and  pow- 
er of  the  English  court  were  unable  to  dissolve.  The  king, 
having  accumulated  from  the  surplus  of  illegal  taxation  a  treasure 
of  two  hundred  thousand  pounds,  raised  an  amiy  to  reduce  the 
Covenanters  to  obedience.  The  queen,  at  the  same  time,  made  an 
appeal  to  the  Catholics  of  England  for  help  in  this  emergency  ;  and 
they  came  forward  with  abundant  free-will  offerings,  thus  helping 
to  fix  the  impression  on  the  public  mind,  that  the  question  to  be  de- 
cided by  arms,  was  in  fact  the  question  between  Protestantism  on 
the  one  hand,  and  a  return  to  Popery  on  the  other. 

One  grand  infirmity  in  Charles's  character  was  an  extreme  obsti- 
nacy of  purpose,  conjoined  with  the  utmost  vacillation  of  conduct ; 
and  never,  perhaps,  was  that  infirmity  more  strikingly  exhibited  than 
in  his  management  at  this  crisis.  The  enterprise  of  forcing  Eng- 
hsh  uniformity  on  the  Presbyterians  of  Scotland,  was  one  of  which 
he  might  have  said  beforehand,  "  The  attempt,  and  not  the  deed, 
confounds  us  ; "  and  had  he  been  endowed  with  the  talent,  as  he 
was  impelled  by  the  spirit  of  usurpation,  he  would  have  seen  that,  if 
once  embarked  on  such  a  project,  he  had  no  alternative  but  success 
or  ruin.  Having  made  great  preparation,  he  marched  in  person, 
at  the  head  of  a  numerous  army,  to  the  Scottish  frontier.  There, 
without  hazarding  a  single  action,  he  made  a  treaty  with  the  Cove- 
nanters, in  which  he  yielded  nearly  every  thing  they  could  ask 
for ;  and  at  Once  disbanded  his  army.  Then,  suddenly,  when  he 
began  to  feel  the  operation  of  his  own  concessions,  he  recom- 
menced hostilities  without  an  army,  and  without  the  means  of 
raising  one,  his  last  resources  having  been  expended  in  the  pre- 
vious operations. 


m. 


40  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 


In  these  circumstances  of  weakness  and  humiliation,  after  elev- 
en years  of  arbitrary  government,  he  resolved  on  calling  another 
parliament.  But  that  there  might  be  no  opportunity  to  form 
complaints  against  his  administration,  he  fixed  the  tmie  of  meeting 
just  before  the  time  for  the  opening  of  the  campaign.  The  parlia- 
ment, however,  when  assembled,  gave  no  heed  to  the  king's  urgen- 
cy for  an  immediate  supply  of  money ;  but  proceeded,  as  formerly, 
to  the  consideration  of  the  public  grievances.  After  a  few  days' 
debate,  they  were  dissolved  without  having  done  any  thing ;  and 
the  only  result  was  that  the  necessities  of  the  king  were  more  em- 
ban'assing,  and  the  excitement  of  the  nation  deeper  and  more  alarm- 
ing. The  old  course  of  illegal  taxation  and  illegal  punishment  was 
pursued  with  renewed  violence ;  and  matters  were  fast  ripening  for 
civil  war. 

In  this  crisis  it  was,  that  the  convocation  of  the  clergy,  which, 
according  to  immemorial  custom,  had  been  in  session  during  the  ses- 
sion of  parliament,  continued  its  proceedings  by  a  doubtful  author- 
ity, and  enacted  a  new  body  of  "  constitutions  and  canons  ecclesi- 
astical," the  grand  object  of  which  was  the  more  grievous  oppres- 
sion of  the  Puritans.  One  of  these  canons  made  it  the  duty  of 
every  minister  to  read  publicly,  once  in  three  months,  a  certain 
prescribed  declaration  of  the  divine  mstitution  of  absolute  monar- 
chy. Another  decreed  not  only  exconununication,  but  a  further 
punishment  in  the  star  chamber,  against  every  person  who  should 
"  import,  print  or  disperse"  any  book  written  against  the  discipline 
and  government  of  the  church  of  England.  Another  enjoined  it 
on  all  public  preachers  to  preach  twice  a  year,  "  positively  and 
plainly,  that  the  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  church  of  England 
are  lawful,  and  that  it  is  the  duty  of  all  people  to  conform  to  them." 
But  the  most  obnoxious  of  these  canons  was  that  which  prescribed 
an  oath  to  be  taken  by  all  ecclesiastical  persons,  on  pain  first 
of  suspension,  and,  after  two  months,  of  deprivation.  Those  who 
received  this  oath  swore  not  only  that  they  approved  the  doctrine, 
discipline  and  government  established  in  the  church  of  England, 
but  that  they  never  would  consent  to  any  alteration.  The  de- 
sign was,  to  cast  out  and  silence  every  minister  in  the  kingdom, 
'"NVho  entertained  any  scruple  in  regai'd  to  the  perfection  of  the 
church  as  it  was  then  constituted  and  governed.  But  the  mad 
zeal  of  those  who  framed  and  imposed  this  test  defeated  its  own 
purpose,  and  strengthened  instead  of  suppressing  the  cause  of  the 
Puritans.  One  clause  of  the  oath  was  as  follows — "  Nor  will  I  give 
my  consent  to  alter  the  government  of  this  church  by  archbishops, 
bishops,  deacons  and  archdeacons,  etc.,  as  it  stands  now  estabhsbed, 
and  by  right  ought  to  stand."  From  the  et  cetera  in  this  clause,  the 
oath  was  denominated  the  Et  cetera  oath.     It  wakened  a  new  and 


LIFE  OP  RICHARD  BAXTER.  41 

earnest  dispute  throughout  the  kingdom ;  and  many  who  had  sub- 
mitted, without  scruple,  to  every  previous  exaction  of  the  hierarchy, 
were  roused  to  resistance  by  the  attempt  to  force  upon  them  an 
oath  so  sweeping  in  what  it  did  express,  and  with  an  et  cetera  in 
the  middle  that  might  be  made  to  mean  any  thing  or  every  thing 
that  had  been  left  unexpressed. 

It  was  not  long  after  Baxter's  settlement  at  Bridgenorth,  that 
these  canons  were  published.  He  speaks  of  the  oath  as  having 
threatened  his  expulsion.  It  occasioned  much  debate  among  the 
ministers  of  that  county,  though,  as  has  been  already  stated,  they 
were  generally  satisfied  with  conformity.  A  meeting  of  these  minis- 
ters was  held  at  Bridgenorth  for  consultation.  The  greater  number 
were  against  the  oath,  and  were  resolved  not  to  take  it.  Baxter 
was  led  by  this  debate  to  a  new  investigation  of  the  whole  subject 
of  episcopacy,  and  of  the  government  of  the  English  church.  He 
read  several  important  works,  on  both  sides  of  the  question,  which 
he  had  not  seen  before..  The  result  of  his  inquiries  was,  that  "though 
he  found  not  sufficient  evidence  to  prove  all  episcopacy  unlawful, 
yet  he  was  much  satisfied  that  the  English  diocesan  frame  was  guilty 
of  the  conniption  of  churches  and  ministry,  and  of  the  ruin  of  the 
true  church  discipline."  A  similar  effect  was  produced  on  many 
other  minds.  Indeed,  so  evidently  unfavorable  to  the  cause  of  pre- 
lacy, was  the  imposition  of  this  oath,  that  though  the  archbishop 
was  disposed  to  press  it  to  the  utmost,  the  king  soon  gave  order 
that  there  should  be  "  no  prosecution  thereof  till  the  next  meeting 
of  the  convocation."  Thus  the  matter  was  dropped;  and  Baxter, 
and  a  multitude  of  others  similarly  situated,  were  permitted  still  to 
preach  the  gospel. 

He  had  hardly  escaped  from  this  danger,  when  another  incident 
seemed  likely  to  deprive  him  of  the  privilege  of  laboring  as  a  minis- 
ter of  Christ.  The  earl  of  Bridgewater,  lord  president  of  the 
marches  of  Wales,  passed  through  Bridgenorth  on  his  way  to  join 
the  king  in  his  expedition  against  the  Scots ;  and,  arriving  there 
on  Saturday  at  evening,  he  was  informed  by  some  malicious  per- 
sons, that  both  Mr.  Baxter  and  Mr.  Madstard,  his  colleague,  were 
guilty  of  non-conformity  in  respect  to  the  sign  of  the  cross  and 
wearing  the  surplice,  and  that  neither  of  them  prayed  against  the 
Scots.  The  lord  president  was  a  man  having  authority,  and  these 
were  charges  of  no  trivial  guilt.  He  told  the  accusers  he  would 
himself  attend  church  the  next  day,  and  see  whether  the  ministers 
would  do  these  things  or  not.  Nothing  was  expected  but  that 
both  would  be  deprived.  But  suddenly  the  lord  president 
changed  his  purpose,  and  proceeded  on  his  journey  ;  and  the  result 
was,  the  malice  of  the  accusers  was  baffled. 

VOL.  I.  6 


42  LIFE    OF    UICHARD    BAXTER. 

The  king's  second  expedition  against  the  Covenanters  of  Scot- 
land was  more  disastrous  than  the  first.  His  army,  undisciplined 
and  discontented,  after  one  slight  skirmish,  fled  as  in  a  panic  from  the 
Tweed  to  York ;  and  the  Scots  took  possession  of  the  three  north- 
ern counties  of  England.  Among  the  requests  which  the  success- 
ful invaders  sent  to  the  king,  addressing  him  in  the  most  respectful 
language,  and  with  many  protestations  of  fidelity  to  his  person,, 
was  one  that  he  would  call  an  English  parliament  to  settle  the 
peace  between  the  two  kingdoms.  All  the  desires  and  hopes  of 
England  were  for  a  parliament.  Twelve  peers,  attending  on  the 
king  at  York,  presented  their  petition  that  a  parliament  might  be 
called.  Another  petition,  to  the  same  effect,  came  from  London. 
After  a  little  more  delay,  in  the  vain  hope  of  some  cliange  by  which 
lie  might  escape  from  what  he  so  much  feared  and  hated,  he 
yielded  to  the  dire  necessity ;  and  to  the  universal  joy  of  an  op- 
pressed and  indignant  nation,  a  parliament  was  summoned. 

This  assembly,  celebrated  in  history  as  the  Long  Parliament, 
was  opened  November  3,  1640;  and  immediately  proceeded  with 
a  high  hand  to  the  redress  of  grievances.  Their  confidence  in  the 
king  was  lost  beyond  recovery ;  they  believed  the  constitution  of 
the  kingdom  to  liave  been  subverted ;  and  as  they  went  on  in  the 
work  of  reformation,  they  insensibly  came  to  consider  themselves  as 
bound  not  only  to  correct  existing  abuses,  by  strong,  and,  if  need 
be,  violent  measures,  but  also  to  limit  the  pov.er  of  the  monarch 
by  new  restraints,  and  to  guard  the  liberties  of  the  people  against 
the  possibility  of  future  invasion.  That  the  king  had  justly  for- 
feited the  confidence  of  his  people,  and  that  his  conduct,  for  at 
least  twelve  years,  had  betrayed  a  settled  design  to  change  the 
constitution,  admits  of  no  serious  question.  That  there  are  cases 
of  usurpation,  in  which  the  bonds  of  allegiance  are  dissolved,  and 
the  people  are  left  to  institute,  in  such  manner  as  convenience  dic- 
tates, new  forms  of  government,  is  a  maxim  undisputed  in  modern 
politics.  Whetljer  the  case  in  which  the  parliament  now  found 
themselves  was  one  of  this  description ;  whether  the  king's  sub- 
^'ersion  of  the  old  constitution  justified  them  in  irregularly  iraming 
a  new  one,  is  a  question  which  still  divides  the  opinions  of  the  Eng- 
lish people,  and  which  it  is  no  part  of  the  design  of  this  narrative  to 
illustrate  or  decide. 

At  the  very  beginning  of  the  session,  the  almost  unanimous  hos- 
tility of  the  members,  against  the  administration  in  all  its  depart- 
ments, discovered  itself.  The  topics  of  complaint,  both  civil  and 
ecclesiastical,  were  discussed  in  long  and  vehement  speeches,  many 
of  which  were  published  and  eagerly  read  throughout  the  nation. 
Tlie  principal  advisers  of  the  crownn,  especially  Strafford  and  Laud, 
were  impeached  of  high  treason. 


LIFE    OF    Rlt'HAKD    liAXTKR.  .43 

*'The  concord  of  this  pailianient  cunsistecl  not  in  the  unanimity 
of  the  persons,  for  they  were  of  several  tempers  as  to  matters  of" 
rehgion,  but  in  the  comphcation  of  the  interest  of  those  causes 
which  they  severally  did  most  concern  themselves  in."  For,  as  the 
king's  illegal  and  violent  proceedings  in  the  state  had  run  parallel 
with  Laud's  Popish  impositions  on  the  church,  so  "  the  parlia- 
ment consisted  of  two  sorts  of  men,  who,  by  the  conjunction  of 
these  causes,  were  united  in  their  votes  and  endeavors  for  a  refor- 
mation. One  party  made  no  great  matter  of  these  alterations  in 
the  church  ;  but  they  said  if  parliament  were  once  down,  and  our 
propriety  gone,  and  arbitrary  government  set  up,  and  law  subjected 
to  the  prince's  will,  we  were  then  all  slaves ;  and  this  they  made 
a  thing  intolerable,  for  the  remedying  of  which,  they  said,  every 
true  Englishman  could  think  no  price  too  dear.  These  the  people 
called  '  good  conmion wealth's  men.'  The  other  sort  were  the 
more  religious  men,  who  were  also  sensible  of  all  these  things,  but 
were  much  more  sensible  of  the  interest  of  religion ;  and  these 
most  inveighed  against  the  innovations  in  the  church,  the  bowing 
to  altars,  (enjoined  and  enforced  by  the  prelates,)  the  book  for  sports 
on  Sundays,  the  casting  out  of  ministers,  the  troubling  of  the  peo- 
ple by  the  high-commission  court,  the  pillorying  and  cutting  oft" 
men's  ears  for  speaking  against  the  bishops,  the  putting  down  lec- 
tures, and  afternoon  sermons,  and  expositions  on  the  Lord's  days, 
v/ith  such  other  things,  which  they  thought  of  greater  weight  than 
ship-money.  But  because  these  latter  agreed  with  the  former  in 
the  vindication  of  the  people's  propriety  and  liberties,  the  former 
did  the  easilier  concur  with  them  against  the  proceedings  of  the 
bishops  and  high-commission  court."* 

Petitions  and  complaints  against  arbitrary  power  in  state  and 
church  came  in  from  every  quarter.  Many  proceedings  of  the 
star  chamber  and  high-conunission  courts  were  revised  and  con- 
demned by  the  house  of  commons.  Individuals  who  had  been 
fined  immense  sums,  and  pilloried,  and  mutilated,  and  condemned 
to  perpetual  imprisonment,  were  brought  out  from  distant  places  of 
confinement,  and  conducted  to  London  with  popular  acclamations, 
and  as  in  a  triumphal  procession.  A  bill  of  attainder  was  passed 
against  Strafford,  to  which  the  king,  with  much  reluctance,  and  after 
some  alarming  demonstrations  of  tlie  popular  fury,  at  last  gave 
his  assent ;  and  the  blood  of  Charles's  ablest,  and,  with  but  one 
exception,  most  arbitrary  minister,  was  shed  on  the  scaffold. 
At  the  same  time,  the  king  assented  to  a  bill  which  made  the 
parliament  incapable  of  dissolution,  save  by  its  own  consent,  thus 
changing  at  once  the  constitution  of  the  government.     The  high- 

*  Narrative.  Part  I.  p  16. 


44  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

commission,  star  chamber,  and  other  arbitrary  courts  were  soon 
afterwards  abolished.  Not  many  months  elapsed  before  the  bish- 
ops were  deprived  of  their  seats  in  the  house  of  lords.  Thus  one 
encroachment  after  another  was  made  on  the  royal  power,  the 
king,  meanwhile,  as  formerly,  pursuing  no  uniform  course  of  con- 
duct, but  acting  now  from  fear,  and  now  from  pride  or  anger,  as  one 
passion  or  another  was  excited  by  present  circumstances.  Mutual 
distrust  and  irritation  proceeded  ;  every  preparation  was  gradually 
made,  by  both  parties,  for  an  appeal  to  arms ;  and  at  last,  on  the 
22d  of  August,  1642,  the  king  set  up  his  standard,  and  a  civil  war 
was  begun. 

But  we  have  run  before  our  Narrative  of  Baxter's  personal  his- 
tory. One  of  the  measures  of  reform  undertaken  by  the  parlia- 
ment, was  the  appointment  of  a  committee  to  receive  petitions  and 
complaints  against  scandalous  clergymen.  As  soon  as  this  was 
known,  petitions  were  brought  forward  from  all  quarters.  At  a 
later  period,  ministers  were  removed  by  parliament  for  political  of- 
fenses ;  but  at  the  time  now  referred  to,  no  encouragement  was  giv- 
en for  complaints  against  any  minister  except  for  insufficiency,  false 
doctrine,  illegal  innovations,  or  scandal.  The  chaiixaan  of  this  com- 
mittee published  the  names  of  a  hundred  of  these  ministers,  with, 
their  places  and  the  articles  proved  against  them,  "  where,"  says 
Baxter,  "  so  much  ignorance,  insufficiency,  dmnkenness,  filthiness, 
etc.,  was  charged  upon  them,  that  many  moderate  men  could  have 
wished  that  their  nakedness  had  been  rather  hid,  and  not  exposed 
to  the  world's  derision."* 

The  inhabitants  of  Kidderminster  in  Worcestershire,  following 
the  example  of  other  towns,  prepared  a  petition  against  their  min- 
isters, the  vicar  and  his  two  curates,  all  of  whom  were  decidedly 
unqualified  for  the  sacred  office.  The  vicar,  whose  name  was 
Dance,  foreseeing  how  such  a  petition  in  relation  to  him  would  ter- 
minate, proposed  a  compromise  with  the  people.  By  the  media- 
tion of  Sir  Henry  Herbert,  Baxter's  old  patron  at  Whitehall,  then 
member  of  parliament,  an  agreement  was  finally  made  that  the 
vicar  should  dismiss  the  curate  who  assisted  him  in  the  town,  and 
should  allow  sixty  pounds  yearly  to  such  preacher  as  a  committee 
of  fourteen,  named  by  the  complainants,  should  choose.  The  min- 
ister thus  elected  was  not  to  be  hindered  from  preaching  at  any 
time ;  and  the  vicar  was  to  read  the  common  prayer,  as  usual,  and 
to  do  whatever  else  was  to  be  done.  So  the  petition  was  with- 
drawn, and  the  vicar  kept  his  place,  which,  after  the  allowance 
stipulated  for  a  preacher,  was  still  worth  two  hundred  pounds  per 
annum. 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  I'J. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  45 

To  this  place  Baxter  was  invited  on  the  9th  of  March,  1641. 
*'  My  mind,"  he  says,  "was  much  to  the  place  as  soon  as  it  was  de- 
scribed to  me ;  because  it  was  a  full  congregation,  and  most  con- 
venient temple  ;  an  ignorant,  rude  and  reveling  people  for  the 
greater  part,  who  had  need  of  preaching,  and  yet  had  among  them 
a  small  company  of  converts,  who  were  humble,  godly,  and  of 
good  conversation,  and  not  much  hated  by  the  rest,  and  therefore 
the  fitter  to  assist  their  teacher ;  but  above  all,  because  they  had 
hardly  ever  had  any  lively,  serious  preaching  among  them.  For 
Bridgenorth  had  made  me  resolve  that  I  would  never  more  go 
among  a  people  that  had  been  hardened  in  unprofitableness  under 
an  awakening  ministry ;  but  either  to  such  as  had  never  had  any 
convincing  preacher,  or  to  such  as  had  profited  by  him.  As  soon 
as  I  came  to  Kidderminster,  and  had  preached  there  one  day,  I 
was  chosen,  nemine  contradicente ;  for  though  fourteen  only  had 
the  power  of  choosing,  they  desired  to  please  the  rest.  And  thus 
I  was  brought,  by  the  gi-acious  providence  of  God,  to  that  place 
which  had  the  chiefest  of  my  labors,  and  yielded  the  greatest 
fruits  of  comfort.  And  I  noted  the  mercy  of  God  in  this,  that  1 
never  went  to  any  place  in  my  life,  among  all  my  changes,  which  I 
had  before  desired,  or  thought  of,  much  less  sought ;  but  only  to 
those  that  I  never  thought  of  till  the  sudden  invitation  did  sur- 
prise me." 

The  sequel  of  his  life  will  show  in  what  manner,  and  with  what 
success,  he  labored  in  this  place.  At  the  beginning  of  his  labors 
here,  he  found  himself  the  object  of  much  jealousy  and  hatred  on 
the  part  of  the  ignorant  rabble  of  the  town.  Some  instances  of 
their  malice  he  records ;  the  same  idle  ridicule,  the  same  perverse 
misrepresentations,  the  same  lying  reports,  with  which  drunkards 
and  scorners  are  wont  to  assail  serious  and  faithful  ministers  in  these 
days,  were  employed  against  him.  He  lived,  however,  to  see  the 
party  of  the  tippling  and  profane  very  much  diminished  under  his 
influence. 

In  connection  with  the  commencement  of  his  labors  at  Kidder- 
minster, he  adverts  again  to  those  bodily  infirmities  under  which 
he  had  all  along  been  suffering.     These,  he  says,  "  were  so  great 
as  made  me  live  and  preach  in  some  continual  expectation  of  death, 
supposing  still  that  I  had  not  long  to  live  ;  and  this  I  found  through 
all  my  life  to  be  an  invaluable  mercy  to  me :  For, 
"1.  It  gTcatly  weakened  temptations. 
"  2.  It  kept  me  in  a  gi-eat  contempt  of  the  .world. 
"  3.  It  taught  me  highly  to  esteem  of  time  ;  so  that  if  any  of  it 
passed  away  in  idleness  or  unprofitableness,  it  was  so  long  a  pain 
and  burden  to  my  mind.     So  that  I  must  say,  to  the  praise  of  my 
most  wise  conductor,  that  time  hath  still  seemed  to  me  luucli  more 


46  LIFE    OV    RICHARD    BAXTER.  ^ 

precious  than  gold  or  any  eaithly  gain,  and  its  minutes  have  not 
been  despised,  nor  have  I  been  much  tempted  to  any  of  the  sins 
which  usually  go  by  the  name  of  pastime,  since  I  understood  my 
work. 

"  4.  It  made  me  study  and  preach  things  necessary,  and  a  little 
stirred  up  my  sluggish  heart,  to  speak  to  sinners  with  some  com- 
passion, as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men. 

"  These,  with  the  rest  which  I  mentioned  before  when  I  spake 
of  my  infinities,  were  the  blessings  which  God  afforded  me  by  af- 
fliction. I  humbly  bless  his  gi'acious  providence,  who  gave  me  his 
treasure  in  an  earthen  vessel,  and  trained  me  up  in  the  school  of 
affliction,  and  taught  me  the  cross  of  Christ  so  soon."* 

Amid  these  distresses  of  the  body,  the  blessed  effects  of  which 
he  acknowledged  in  his  old  age  so  gratefully,  his  mind  was  not 
always  free  from  even  severe  and  painful  conflicts.  The  trials  ot 
such  a  believer,  and  the  processes  by  which  his  faith  advanced  to- 
ward perfection,  are  always  instinctive.  The  following  record  wifl 
not  be  read  without  interest.  It  was  by  such  inward  struggles, 
probably,  that  he  acquired  those  clear  and  discriminating  views  of 
Christian  character,  as  well  as  Christian  tnith,  by  which  his  writings 
are  distinguished. 

"  At  one  time  above  all  tlie  rest,  being  under  a  new  and  unusual 
distemper,  which  put  me  upon  the  present  expectations  of  my 
change,  and  going  for  comfort  to  the  promises,  as  I  was  used,  the 
tempter  strongly  assaulted  my  faith,  and  would  have  drawn  me  to- 
wards infidelity  itself.  Till  I  was  ready  to  enter  into  the  ministry, 
all  my  troubles  had  been  raised,  by  the  hardness  of  my  heart,  and 
the  doublings  of  my  own  sincerity ;  but  now  all  these  began  to 
vanish,  and  never  much  returned  to  this  day ;  and  instead  of  these, 
I  was  now  assaulted  by  more  pernicious  temptations ;  especially  to 
question  the  tmth  of  the  Sacred  Scriptures,  and  also  the  life  to  come, 
and  immortality  of  the  soul.  And  these  temptations  assaulted  me, 
not  as  they  do  the  melancholy,  with  horrid,  vexing  importunity  ;  but, 
by  pretence  of  sober  reason,  they  would  have  drawn  me  to  a  set- 
tled doubting  of  Christianity. 

"  And  here  I  found  my  own  miscan'iage  and  the  great  mercy  ot 
God.  My  miscarriage,  in  that  I  had  so  long  neglected  the  well 
settling  of  my  foundations,  while  I  had  bestowed  so  much  time  in 
the  superstmctures  and  the  applicatory  part.  For  having  taken  it 
for  an  intolerable  evil  once  to  question  the  truth  of  the  Scriptures 
and  the  life  to  come,  I  had  either  taken  it  for  a  certainty  upon  trust, 
or  taken  up  with  common  reasons  of  it,  which  I  had  never  well 
considered,  digested,  or  made  mine  own.     Insomuch  as  when  this 

*  Narrative.  Part  I.  p.  21. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  47 

temptation  came,  it  seemed  at  first  to  answer  and  enervate  all  the 
former  reasons  of  my  feeble  faith,  which  made  me  to  take  the 
Scriptures  for  the  word  of  God ;  and  it  set  before  me  such  moun- 
tains of  difficulty  in  the  incaination,  the  person  of  Christ,  his  under- 
taking and  performance,  with  the  Scripture  chronology,  histories 
and  style,  etc.,  which  had  stalled  and  overwhelmed  me,  if  God  had 
not  been  my  strength.  And  here  I  saw  much  of  the  mercy  of 
God,  that  he  let  not  out  these  temble  temptations  upon  me, 
while  I  was  weak  and  in  the  infancy  of  my  faith  ;  for  then  I  had 
never  been  able  to  withstand  them.  But  faith  is  like  a  tree,  whose 
top  is  small  while  the  root  is  young  and  shallow ;  and  therefore,  as 
then  it  hath  but  small  rooting,  so  is  it  not  liable  to  the  shaking 
winds  and  tempests,  as  the  big  and  high-grown  trees  are ;  but  as 
the  top  groweth  higher,  so  the  root  at  once  grows  greater,  and 
deeper  fixed,  to  cause  it  to  endure  its  greater  assault. 

"  Though  formerly  I  was  wont,  when  any  such  temptation  came, 
to  cast  it  aside,  as  fitter  to  be  abhorred  than  considered  of,  yet  now 
this  would  not  give  me  satisfaction ;  but  I  was  fain  to  dig  to  the 
very  foundations,  and  seriously  to  examine  the  reasons  of  Christian- 
ity, and  to  give  a  hearing  to  all  that  could  be  said  against  it,  that  so 
my  faith  might  be  indeed  my  own.  And  at  last  I  found  that  Nil 
tarn  certum  quam  quod  ex  dubio  cerium ;  nothing  is  so  firmly  be- 
lieved as  that  which  hath  been  some  time  doubted  of. 

"  In  the  storm  of  this  temptation,  I  questioned  a  while  whether 
I  were  indeed  a  Christian  or  an  infidel,  and  whether  faith  could 
consist  with  such  doubts  as  I  was  conscious  of;  for  I  had  read  in 
many  Papists  and  Protestants,  that  faith  had  certainty,  and  was  more 
than  an  opinion  ;  and  that  if  a  man  should  live  a  godly  life,  from  the 
bare  apprehensions  of  the  probability  of  the  truth  of  Scripture,  and 
the  life  to  come,  it  would  not  save  him,  as  being  no  tme  godliness 
or  faith.  But  my  judgment  closed  with  the  reason  of  Dr.  Jack- 
son's determination  of  this  case,  which  supported  me  much,  that  as 
in  the  very  assenting  act  of  faith  there  may  be  sucli  weakness  as 
may  make  us  cry,  '  Lord,  increase  our  faith  ;  we  believe,  Lord  ;  help 
our  unbelief;'  so  when  faith  and  unbelief  are  in  their  conflict,  it 
is  the  effects  which  must  show  us  which  of  them  is  victorious.  And 
that  he  that  hath  so  much  faith  as  will  cause  him  to  deny  himself, 
take  up  his  cross,  and  forsake  all  the  profits,  honors  and  pleasures 
of  this  world,  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  the  love  of  God,  and  the  hope 
of  glory,  hath  a  saving  faith,  how  weak  soever;  for  God  cannot 
condemn  the  soul  that  truly  loveth  and  seeketli  him ;  and  those 
that  Christ  bringeth  to  persevere  in  the  love  of  God,  he  bringeth 
to  salvation.  And  there  were  diverse  things,  that  in  this  assault 
proved  great  assistance  to  my  faith. 

"  1.  That  the  being  and  attributes  of  God  were  so  clear  to  me, 
that  he  was  to  my  intellect  what  the  sun  is  to  my  eye,  by  which  I 


48  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

see  itself  and  all  things.  An,d  he  seemed  mad  to  me,  who  ques- 
tioned whether  there  were  a  God."  "All  the  suppositions  of  the 
atlieists  have  ever  since  been  so  visibly  foolish  and  shameful  to  my 
apprehension,  that  I  scarce  find  a  capacity  in  myself  of  doubting  of 
them  ;  and  whenever  the  tempter  hath  joined  any  thing  of  these 
with  the  rest  of  his  temptations,  the  rest  have  been  the  easier  over- 
come, because  of  the  overwhelming  evidences  of  a  Deity  which 
are  always  before  the  eyes  of  my  soul. 

"  2.  And  it  helped  me  much  to  discern  that  this  God  must 
needs  be  related  to  us  as  our  Owner,  our  Governor,  and  our  Bene- 
factor, in  that  he  is  related  to  us  as  our  Creator ;  and  that  therefore 
we  are  related  to  him  as  his  own,  his  subjects,  and  his  beneficiaries  ; 
which  as  they  all  proceed  by  undeniable  resultancy  from  our  crea- 
tion and  nature,  so  thence  do  our  duties  arise  which  belong  to  us 
in  those  relations,  by  as  undeniable  resultancy  ;  and  that  no  show  of 
reason  can  be  brought  by  any  infidel  in  the  world  to  excuse  the 
rational  creature  from  loving  his  Maker,  with  all  his  heart,  and  soul, 
and  might,  and  devoting  himself  and  all  his  faculties  to  him  from 
whom  he  did  receive  them,  and  making  him  his  ultimate  end  who 
is  his  first  efficient  Cause.  So  that  godliness  is  a  duty  so  undenia- 
bly required  in  the  law  of  nature,  and  so  discernible  by  reason 
itself,  that  nothing  but  unreasonableness  can  contradict  it. 

"  3.  And  then  it  seemed  utterly  improbable  to  me  that  this  God 
should  see  us  to  be  losers  by  our  love  and  duty  to  him,  and  that 
our  duty  should  be  made  our  snare,  or  make  us  the  more  misera- 
ble by  how  much  the  more  faithfully  we  perform  it.  And  I  saw 
that  the  very  possibility  of  a  life  to  come  would  make  it  the  duty  of 
a  reasonable  creature  to  seek  it,  though  with  the  loss  of  all  below. 

"  4.  And  I  saw,  by  undeniable  experience,  a  strange,  universal 
enmity  between  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly  mind,  the  godly  and 
the  wicked."  "  And  I  saw  that  the  wicked  and  haters  of  godli- 
ness are  so  commonly  the  greatest,  and  most  powerful,  and  nume- 
rous, as  well  as  cruel,  that  ordinarily  there  is  no  living  according  to 
the  precepts  of  nature  and  undeniable  reason,  without  being  made 
the  derision  and  contempt  of  men." 

"  5.  And  then  I  saw  that  there  is  no  other  religion  in  the  world, 
Vi^hich  can  stand  in  competition  with  Christianity.  Heathenism 
and  Mohametanism  are  kept  up  by  tyranny,  and  blush  to  stand  at 
the  bar  of  reason  ;  and  Judaism  is  but  Christianity  in  the  egg  or 
bud  ;  and  mere  Deism,  which  is  the  most  plausible  competitor,  is  so 
turned  out  of  almost  the  whole  world,  as  if  nature  made  its  own 
confession,  that  without  a  Mediator  it  cannot  come  to  God. 

"  6.  And  I  perceived  that  all  other  religions  leave  the  people 
in  their  worldly,  sensual,  and  ungodly  state."  "And  the  nations 
where  Christianity  is  not,  are  drowned  in  ignorance  and  earthly 
naindedness.  so  as  to  be  the  shame  of  nature. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  49 

"7.  And  I  saw  that  Christ  did  bring  up  all  his  serious  and  sin- 
cere disciples  to  real  holiness  and  to  heavenly  mindedness,  and 
made  them  new  creatures,  and  set  their  hearts,  and  designs,  and 
hopes,  on  another  life,  and  brought  their  senses  into  subjection  to 
their  reason,  and  taught  them  to  resign  themselves  to  God,  and  to 
love  him  above  all  the  world.  And  it  is  not  like  tliat  God  will 
make  use  of  a  deceiver  for  this  real  visible  recovery  and  reforma- 
tion of  the  nature  of  man ;  or  that  any  thing  but  his  own  zeal  can 
imprint  his  image. 

"  8.  And  here  I  saw  an  admirable  suitableness,  in  the  office  and 
design  of  Christ,  to  the  ends  of  God,  and  the  felicity  of  man  ; 
and  how  excellently  these  supernatural  revelations  do  fall  in,  and 
take  their  place,  in  subserviency  to  natural  verities  ;  and  how  won- 
derfully faith  is  fitted  to  bring  men  to  the  love  of  God,  when  it  is 
nothing  else  but  the  beholding  of  his  amiable  attractive  love  and 
goodness  in  the  face  of  Christ,  and  the  promises  of  heaven,  as  in  a 
glass,  till  we  see  his  glory. 

"  9.  And  I  had  felt  much  of  the  power  of  his  word  and  spirit 
on  myself,  doing  that  which  reason  now  telleth  me  must  be  done. 
And  shall  I  question  my  physician  when  he  hath  done  so  much  of 
the  cure,  and  recovered  my  depraved  soul  to  God  ? 

"  10.  And  as  I  saw  these  assistances  to  my  faith,  so  I  perceived 
that  whatever  the  tempter  had  to  say  against  it,  was  grounded  on 
the  advantages  which  he  took  from  my  ignorance,  and  my  distance 
from  the  times  and  places  of  the  matters  of  the  sacred  history,  and 
such  like  things  which  every  novice  meeteth  with  in  almost  all  other 
sciences  at  the  first,  and  which  wise,  well-studied  men  can  see 
through. 

"  All  these  assistances  were  at  hand  before  I  came  to  the  imme- 
diate evidences  of  credibility  in  the  sacred  oracles  themselves. 
And  when  I  set  myself  to  search  for  those,  I  found  more  in  the 
doctrine,  the  predictions,  the  miracles,  than  I  ever  before  took  no- 
tice of,  which  I  shall  not  here  so  far  digress  as  to  set  down,  having 
partly  done  it  in  several  treatises." 

"  From  this  assault,  I  was  forced  to  take  notice  that  it  is  our  belief 
of  the  truth  of  the  word  of  God  and  the  life  to  come,  which  is  the 
spring  that  sets  all  grace  on  work,  and  with  which  it  rises  or  falls, 
flourishes  or  decays,  is  actuated  or  stands  still ;  and  that  there  is 
more  of  this  secret  unbelief  at  the  root,  than  most  of  us  are  aware 
of;  and  that  our  love  of  the  world,  our  boldness  with  sin,  our  neg- 
lect of  duty,  are  caused  hence.  I  observed  easily  in  myself  that 
if  at  any  time  Satan  did,  more  than  at  other  times,  weaken  my  belief 
of  Scripture  and  the  life  to  come,  my  zeal  in  religious  duty  abated 
with  it,  and  I  grew  more  indifferent  in  religion  than  before  ;  I  was 
more  inclined  to  conformity  in  those  points  which  I  had  taken  to 

VOL.  i.  7 


50  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

be  sinful,  and  was  ready  to  think,  why  should  I  be  smgular,  and  of- 
fend the  bishops  and  my  superiors,  and  make  myself  contemptible 
in  the  world,  and  expose  myself  to  censures,  scorns  and  sufferings, 
and  all  for  such  little  things  as  these,  when  the  foundations  have 
so  great  difficulties  as  I  am  unable  to  overcome  ?  But  when  faith 
revived,  then  none  of  the  parts  or  concernments  of  religion  seemed 
small,  and  then  man  seemed  nothing,  and  the  world  a  shadow,  and 
God  was  all. 

"  In  the  beginning,  I  doubted  not  of  the  truth  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures or  of  the  life  to  come,  because  I  saw  not  the  difficulties  which 
might  cause  doubting.  After  that,  I  saw  them,  and  I  doubted  be- 
cause 1  saw  not  that  which  should  satisfy  the  mmd  against  them. 
Since  that,  having  seen  both  difficulties  and  evidences,  though  I  am 
not  so  unmolested  asat  first,  yet  is  my  faith,  I  hope,  much  stronger, 
and  far  better  able  to  repel  the  temptations  of  Satan  and  the 
sophisms  of  infidels  than  before.  But  yet  it  is  my  daily  prayer, 
that  God  would  increase  my  faith,  and  give  my  soul  a  clear  sight 
of  the  evidences  of  his  truth,  and  of  himself,  and  of  the  invisible 
world."* 

It  was  a  little  more  than  a  year  after  Baxter's  coming  to  Kidder- 
minster, when  the  war  between  the  king  and  the  parliament  was 
fairly  begun.  In  his  own  Narrative,  he  describes  much  at  length 
the  causes  of  the  w^ar,  the  character  of  the  parties  into  which  the 
nation  was  divided,  and  the  progress  of  events.  He  was  himself 
the  sworn  partisan  of  neither  side ;  his  views  were  much  more  fa- 
vorable to  the  doctrine  of  non-resistance,  than  were  those  of  his 
friends ;  and  he  ascribes  the  blame  of  the  war  to  both  parties.  On 
the  side  of  the  parliament,  he  blames,  first,  the  indiscretion  and  tu- 
multuous proceedings  of  the  people  who  adhered  to  them,  particu- 
larly in  London,  where  their  zeal  broke  out  in  acts  of  violence. 
This  he  attributes  in  a  great  measure  to  the  bitter  and  angry  spirit 
of  a  few,  who  were  yet  "  enough  to  stir  up  the  younger  and  unex- 
perienced sort  of  religious  people  to  speak  too  vehemently  and  in- 
lemperately  against  the  bishops  and  the  ceremonies,  and  to  jeer 
and  deride  at  the  common  prayer,  and  all  that  was  against  their 
minds.  For  the  young  and  raw  sort  of  Christians  are  usually  prone 
to  this  kind  of  sin  ;  to  be  self-conceited,  petulant,  wilful,  censorious 
and  injudicious  in  all  their  management  of  their  differences  in  reli- 
gion, and  in  all  their  attempts  of  refonnation.  Scorning  and  clam- 
oring at  that  which  they  think  evil,  they  usually  judge  a  war- 
rantable course.  And  it  is  hard  finding  any  sort  of  people  in  the 
world,  where  many  of  the  most  unexperienced  are  not  indiscreet, 
and  proud,  and  passionate."     This  spirit  among  the  people,  he 


Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  21,  24. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  51 

says,  cxxjasioned  the  riotous  proceedings  referred  to ;  and  every 
sucii  popular  movement  widened  the  breach  and  made  the  quarrel 
more  desperate.  "  Thus  rash  attempts  of  headstrong  people  do 
work  against  the  good  ends  which  they  themselves  intend  ;  and  the 
zeal  which  hath  censorious  strife  and  envy,  doth  tend  to  confusion 
and  every  evil  work ;  and  overdoing  is  the  ordinary  way  of 

UNDOING."* 

Another  thing  on  the  side  of  the  parliament,  which  hastened  the 
war,  and  made  it  inevitable  and  irreconcilable,  was  the  revolutionary 
spirit  of  some  of  the  active  members,  who  encouraged  the  disorders 
before  mentioned,  and  w^ere  unwilling  to  rest  at  any  point  short  of 
the  reduction  of  the  whole  system  of  church  and  state  to  their  no- 
tions. 

To  these  causes  he  adds  another,  "  the  great  distrust  wliich  the 
parliament  had  of  the  king ; "  but  though  he  mentions  this  in  the 
catalogue  of  those  particulars  in  which  the  parliament  was  blame- 
worthy, he  neglects  to  show  how  the  blame  of  this  distrust  could 
be  imputed  either  to  the  parliament  or  to  the  people.  "  They 
were  confident,"  he  says,  and  evidently  they  had  good  reason  to  be 
confident,  "  that  the  king  was  unmovable  as  to  his  judgment  and 
affections ;  and  that  whatever  he  granted  them,  was  but  in  design 
to  get  his  advantage  utterly  to  destroy  them ;  and  that  he  did  but 
watch  for  such  an  opportunity.  They  supposed  that  he  utterly 
abhorred  the  parliament  and  their  actions ;  and  therefore  whatever 
he  promised  them, they  believed  him  not,  nor  durst  take  his  word; 
which  they  were  hardened  in  by  those  fonner  actions  of  his,  which 
they  called  the  breach  of  his  former  promises."! 

On  the  other  side,  the  quarrel  was  aggravated,  and  the  war  has- 
tened, first  by  a  plot,  in  which  the  king  was  involved,  to  bring  the 
northern  amiy  to  London,  and  thus  to  overawe  and  subdue  the 
parliament ;  then  by  his  undertaking  to  provide  a  guard,  ostensibly 
for  the  protection,  but  really  for  the  restraint,  of  the  house  of  com- 
mons ;  next  by  the  king's  coming  in  person  to  the  house,  followed 
by  an  armed  retinue,  with  the  design  of  seizing  five  members, 
whom  he  had  accused  of  treason ;  afterwards  by  the  rash  move- 
ments of  some  of  the  king's  friends ;  and  more  than  all  the  rest, 
by  the  supposed  connection  between  the  court  and  the  rebellion 
of  the  Papists  in  Ireland,  who  had  murdered  two  hundred  thou- 
sand Protestants  in  that  kingdom,  and  to  whom  the  English 
Catholics,  favored  by  the  king,  and  known  to  be  his  zealous 
partisans  in  his  whole  controversy  with  the  parliament,  were  look- 
ing with  undisguised  sympathy  and  with  ardent  hopes  for  their 
success. 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  26,  27.  t  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  27. 


o:i  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

These  Baxter  regarded  as  the  causes  of  mutual  irritation, 
to  which  the  commencement  of  hostilities  might  be  directly  as- 
cribed. 

In  this  contest,  the  great  body  of  the  nobility  were  on  the  king's 
side,  especially  after  the  war  had  actually  begun.  Not  a  few 
members  of  the  house  of  commons  left  their  seats  when  they  saw 
that  the  ancient  constitution  of  the  kingdom  was  to  be  subverted. 
A  great  party  of  the  knights  and  men  of  family,  the  extensive  and 
hereditary  landed  proprietors,  were  with  the  kmg  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  and  they,  with  their  tenantry,  constituted  the  strength  of  his 
cause.  To  these  were  added  most  of  the  lowest  and  poorest  class 
of  the  people,  the  ignorant  and  vicious  rabble  every  where.  On 
the  side  of  the  parliament  were  a  few  of  the  nobility,  some  in  the 
highest  rank ;  and  a  very  respectable  minority  of  the  country  knights 
and  gentlemen.  'But  the  chief  strength  of  the  parliament  was  in 
the  middling  classes,  among  the  great  body  of  the  freeholders,  and 
manufacturers,  and  merchants,  the  classes  which,  since  the  era  ot 
the  reformation,  had  acquired  wealth  and  intelligence,  and  a  new 
importance  in  the  nation. 

In  respect  to  religious  principles  and  character,  the  parties  differ- 
ed more  widely,  and  the  line  of  division  was  more  distinctly  drawn, 
than  in  respect  to  rank.  For  "  though  the  public  safety  and  liber- 
ty wrought  very  much  with  most  (especially  with  the  nobility  and 
gentry)  who  adhered  to  the  parliament,  it  was  principally  the  dif- 
ferences about  religious  matters  that  filled  up  the  parliament's  ar- 
mies, and  put  the  resolution  and  valor  into  their  soldiers,  which 
carried  them  on  in  another  manner  than  mercenary  soldiers  are 
carried  on.  Not  that  the  matter  of  bishops  or  no  bishops  was  the 
main  thing,  for  thousands  that  wished  for  good  bishops  were  on  the 
parliament's  side."  "  But  the  generality  of  the  people  through  the 
land,  who  were  then  called  Puritans,  Precisians,  Religious  persons, 
that  used  to  talk  of  God,  and  heaven,  and  Scripture,  and  holiness, 
and  to  follow  semions,  and  read  books  of  devotion,  and  pray  in 
their  families,  and  spend  the  Lord's  day  in  religious  exercises,  and 
plead  for  mortification,  and  serious  devotion,  and  strict  obedience 
to  God,  and  speak  against  swearing,  cursing,  drunkenness,  profane- 
ness,  he. ;  I  say  the  main  body  of  this  sort  of  men,  both  preachers 
and  people,  adhered  to  the  parliament.  And  on  the  other  side, 
the  gentry  that  were  not  so  precise  and  strict  against  an  oath,  or 
gaming,  or  plays,  or  drinking ;  nor  trovibled  themselves  so  much 
about  the  matters  of  God  and  the  world  to  come  ;  and  the  ministers 
and  people  that  were  for  the  king's  book,*  for  dancing  and  recrea- 

*  The  "book  of  sports,"  frequently  spoken  of  in  the  history  of  those  times, 
was  a  royal  proclamatinn,  first  drawn  up  by   Bishop  Morton,  and   published  by 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  63 

tions  on  the  Lord's  days ;  and  those  that  made  not  so  great  a  mat- 
ter of  every  sin,  but  went  to  church  and  heard  common  prayer,  ajid 
were  glad  to  hear  a  sermon  which  lashed  the  Puritans ;  and  who 
ordinarily  spoke  against  this  strictness  and  preciseness  in  religion, 
and  this  strict  observation  of  the  Lord's  day,  and  following  ser- 
mons, and  praying  extempore,  and  talking  so  much  of  Scripture 
and  the  matters  of  salvation ;  and  those  that  hated  and  derided 
them  that  take  these  courses  ; — the  main  body  of  these  were  against 
the  parliament.  Not  but  that  some  such,  for  money,  or  a  landlord's 
pleasure,  served  them ;  as  some  few  of  the  stricter  sort  were  against 
them,  or  not  for  them ;  but  I  speak  of  the  notable  division  through 
the  land. 

"  If  you  ask  how  this  came  to  pass,  it  requireth  a  longer  answer 
than  I  think  fit  here  to  give.  But  briefly ;  actions  spring  from 
natural  dispositions  and  interest.  There  is  somewhat  in  the  na- 
ture of  all  worldly  men  which  makes  them  earnestly  desirous  of 
riches  and  honors  in  the  world.  They  that  value  these  things  most 
will  seek  them  ;  and  they  that  seek  them  are  more  likely  to  find 
them  than  those  that  despise  them.  He  who  takes  the  world  and 
preferment  for  his  interest,  will  estimate  and  choose  all  means  ac- 
cordingly ;  and,  where  the  world  predominates,  gain  goes  for  god- 
liness, and  serious  religion,  which  w^ould  mortify  their  sin,  is  their 
greatest  enemy.  Yet  conscience  must  be  quieted,  and  reputation 
preserved ;  which  cannot  be  done  without  some  religion.  There- 
fore, such  a  religion  is  necessary  to  them,  as  is  consistent  with  a 
worldly  mind ;  which  outside  formaUty,  lip-service,  and  hypocrisy, 
are  ;  but  seriousness,  sincerity,  and  spirituality,  are  not.  On  the 
other  side,  there  is  that  in  the  new  nature  of  a  believer,  which  in- 
clineth  him  to  things  above,  and  causeth  him  to  look  at  worldly 
grandeur  and  riches  as  things  more  dangerous  than  desirable.  He 
is  dead  to  the  world,  and  the  world  to  him,  by  the  cross  of  Christ. 
No  wonder,  therefore,  if  few  such  attain  great  matters  in  the  world, 
or  ever  come  to  preferment  or  greatness  on  earth.     And  there  is 

James  I.  in  the  year  1618,  and  afterwards,  at  the  instigation  of  Archbishop 
Laud, republished  by  Charles  I.  in  the  year  1633.  The  design  of  this  procla- 
mation was  to  express  his  majesty's  pleasure  "that,  after  the  end  of  divine  ser- 
vice, his  good  people  should  not  be  disturbed,  letted  or  discouraged  from  any 
■  lawful  recreations,  such  as  datuLng,  either  of  men  or  women,  arckcry  tor  men, 
lea])ing,vauUiug,ox;)i,nys\ic\\  harmless  recreations,  nor  from  having  may-games, 
ichitson-ales,  or  morr ice-dances,  or  setting  up  o{  may-poles,  or  other  sports  there- 
with used,  so  as  the  same  may  be  had  in  due  and  convenient  time  without  im- 
pediment or  let  of  divine  service."  When  this  proclamation  was  renewed  by 
King  Charles,  it  was  ordered  to  be  read  in  all  the  churches.  Many  of  the 
ministers  refused  to  comply  with  this  order,  some  of  whom  were  suspended  for 
their  disobedience.  Others,  after  publishing  the  king's  decree,  immediately 
read  the  fourth  commandment,  adding,  This  is  the  law  of  God,  the  other  the  in- 
junrtion  of  man. 


S4  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

somewhat  in  them  which  maketh  them  more  fearful  of  displeasing 
God  than  all  the  world,  and  will  not  give  them  leave  to  stretch 
then*  consciences,  or  turn  aside  when  the  interest  or  the  will  of  man 
requireth  it.  And  the  laws  of  Christ,  to  which  they  are  so  devot- 
ed, are  of  such  a  stream  as  cannot  suit  with  carnal  interest.  There 
is  a  universal  and  radicated  enmity  between  the  carnal  and  the 
spiritual.  This  enmity  is  found  in  England,  as  well  as  m  other 
countries,  between  the  godly  and  the  worldly  minds."  "  The  vul- 
gar rabble  of  the  carnal  and  profane  did  every  where  hate  them 
that  reproved  their  sin,  and  condemned  them  by  a  holy  life." 
"  The  vicious  multitude  of  the  ungodly  called  all  Puritans  that 
were  strict  and  serious  in  a  holy  life,  were  they  ever  so  conforma- 
ble. So  the  same  name  in  a  bishop's  mouth  signified  a  non-con- 
formist, and  in  an  ignorant  drunkard's  or  swearer's  mouth,  a  godly, 
obedient  Christian."  "  Now  the  ignorant  ralable,  hearing  that  the 
bishops  were  against  the  Puritans,  not  having  wit  enough  to  know 
whom  they  meant,  were  imboldened  the  more  against  all  those 
whom  they  called  Puritans  themselves ;  and  their  rage  against  the 
godly  was  increased ;  and  they  cried  up  the  bishops,  partly  be- 
cause they  were  against  the  Puritans,  and  partly  because  they  were 
earnest  for  that  way  of  worship  which  they  found  most  consistent 
with  their  ignorance,  carelessness  and  sins.  And  thus  the  interest 
of  the  diocesans,  and  of  the  profane  and  ignorant  sort  of  people, 
were  unhappily  twisted  together  in  England."* 

It  is  unnecessary  to  say  on  which  side  Baxter  was  enlisted. 
The  great  conscientiousness  with  which  he  acted  sufficiently  ap- 
pears from  his  own  review  of  the  reasons  which  governed  his  de- 
cision. No  doubt  the  same  or  similar  reasons  swayed  the  minds  of 
the  great  multitude  of  conscientious  men  with  whom  he  was  asso- 
ciated in  the  cause  which  he  espoused. 

"  For  my  owii  part,  I  freely  confess  that  I  was  not  judicious 
■enough  in  politics  and  law  to  decide  this  controversy,  which  so 
many  lawyers  and  wise  men  differed  in.  Being  astonished  at  the 
Irish  massacre,  and  persuaded  fully  both  of  the  parliament's  good 
endeavors  for  reformation,  and  of  their  real  danger,  ray  judgment 
of  the  main  cause  much  swayed  my  judgment  in  the  matter  of  the 
wars;  and  the  arguments  a  fine,  et  a  natura,  et  necessitate,  which 
common  wits  are  capable  of  discerning,  did  too  far  incline  my  judg- 
ment in  the  cause  of  the  war,  before  I  well  understood  the  argu- 
anents  from  our  particular  laws.  The  consideration  of  the  quality 
of  the  parties  also,  that  sided  for  each  cause,  did  greatly  work  with 
me,  and  more  than  it  should  have  done.  I  verily  thought  that  if 
that  which  a  judge  in  court  saith  sententially  is  law,  must  go  for 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  31,  33. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  \$^ 

law  to  the  subject,  as  to  the  decision  of  that  cause,  thougli  the  king 
send  his  broad  seal  against  it,  then  that  which  the  parliament  saith 
is  law,  is  law  to  the  subjects,  about  the  dangers  of  the  common- 
wealth, whatever  it  be  in  itself. 

"  I  make  no  doubt  that  both  parties  were  to  blame,  as  it  com- 
monly falleth  out  in  most  wars  and  contentions ;  and  I  will  not  be 
he  that  will  justify  either  of  them.  I  doubt  not  but  the  headiness 
and  rashness  of  the  younger,  unexperienced  sort  of  religious  people, 
made  many  parliament  men  and  ministers  overgo  themselves  to 
keep  pace  with  those  Hotspurs.  No  doubt  but  much  indiscretion 
appeared,  and  worse  than  indiscretion,  in  the  tumultuous  petition- 
ers ;  and  much  sin  was  committed  in  the  dishonoring  of  the  king, 
and  in  the  uncivil  language  against  the  bishops  and  liturgy  of  the 
church.  But  these  things  came  chiefly  from  the  sectarian,  sepa- 
rating spirit,  which  blew  the  coals  among  foolish  apprentices.  And 
as  the  sectaries  increased,  so  did  this  insolence  increase."  "  As 
Bishop  Hall  speaks  against  the  justifying  of  the  bishops,  so  do  I 
against  justifying  the  parliament,  ministers,  or  city.  I  believe  many 
unjustifiable  things  were  done ;  but  I  think  that  a  few  men  among 
them  all  were  the  doers  or  instigators." 

"But  I  then  thought,  whoever  was  faulty,  the  people's  liberties 
and  safety  should  not  be  forfeited.  I  thought  that  all  the  subjects 
were  not  guilty  of  all  the  faults  of  king  or  parliament  when  they 
defended  them  ;  yea,  that  if  both  theu'  causes  had  been  bad,  as 
against  each  other,  yet  that  the  subjects  should  adhere  to  that 
party  which  most  secured  the  welfare  of  the  nation,  and  might  de- 
fend the  land  under  their'  conduct  without  owning  all  their  cause. 

"  And  herein  I  was  then  so  zealous,  that  I  thought  it  was  a  great 
sin  for  men  that  were  able  to  defend  their  country  to  be  neuters. 
And  I  have  been  tempted  smce  to  think  that  I  was  a  more  compe- 
tent judge  upon  the  place,  when  all  things  were  before  our  eyes, 
than  I  am  in  the  review  of  those  days  and  actions,  so  many  years 
after,  when  distance  disadvantageth  the  apprehension."* 

No  American  who  justifies  the  revolution  of  1776, — no  Eng- 
lishman who  justifies  the  revolution  of  1680, — can  doubt  that  Bax- 
ter and  those  with  whom  he  acted,  were,  at  the  beginning,  in  the 
right.  Their  cause,  though  it  was  afterwards  shipwrecked  by  their 
ignorance  and  their  dissensions,  was  the  cause  which  will  one  day 
triumph  throughout  all  the  world. 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  39. 


PART    SECOND. 


PKOM     THE     BEGINNING     OF     THE     WAR     TO     THE     TIME     OF     HIS 
LEAVING    THE    ARMY. 


The  point  at  which  the  king  ventured  to  make  a  stand  against 
the  claims  of  the  parHament,  was  when  they  demanded  of  him  that 
the  militia  of  the  kingdom  should  be  put  under  the  command  of 
men  in  whom  they  could  confide,  and  whom  they  might  nominate. 
This  was,  in  their  view,  essential  to  their  personal  safety,  and  equal- 
ly essential  to  secure  the  execution  of  the  laws  and  the  liberties  of 
the  people.  After  some  delay,  and  some  proposals  for  a  compro- 
mise, the  king,  having  in  the  mean  time  removed  firom  London, 
sent  them  a  flat  refusal.  The  two  houses  proceeded  to  form  and 
publish  an  ordinance,  in  which  they  named  lieutenants  for  the 
counties,  conferring  on  them  the  command  of  the  militia,  and  of  all 
the  guards,  garrisons  and  forts  of  the  kingdom.  These  lieutenants 
were  to  obey  the  orders  of  the  king,  signified  by  the  two  houses  of 
parliament.  On  the  other  hand,  the  king,  taking  advantage  of  an 
old  statute,  issued  his  commissions  of  array,  appointing  men  of  his 
own  choice  in  the  several  counties  to  array,  muster  and  train  the 
people.  The  date  of  the  ordinance  of  parliament  was  March  5th, 
(1642,)  but  no  attempt  was  made  to  execute  either  that  or  the 
king's  commissions,  till  three  months  afterwards,  or  about  two 
months  before  the  fomtial  declaration  of  war.  The  setting  up  of 
these  clashing  authorities  was  attended  with  some  skirmishes  in 
places  where  there  was  something  like  a  balance  of  strength  be- 
tween the  two  parties.  But,  generally,  where  the  people  had, 
with  a  decided  majority,  espoused  the  cause  of  parliament,  the  mi- 
litia acknowledged  the  authority  of  their  ordinance  ;  and  where 
the  majority  were  for  the  king,  the  commissions  of  array  were  put 
in  execution. 

That  part  of  the  country  in  which  Baxter  resided,  mcluding 
the  three  adjacent  counties  of  Shropshire,  Worcester,  and  Here- 
fordshire, was  so  generally  devoted  to  the  king  that  there  was  no 
public  movement  in  behalf  of  the  parliament.  And  as  these  prep- 
arations for  war  went  forward,  it  became  necessary  for  him  to  re- 
treat from  a  scene  of  so  much  dantrer  to  those  of  his  known  char- 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  57 

acter  and  principles.  Some  apprehension  of  the  fury  of  the  times 
may  be  gathered  more  easily  from  a  few  particular  incidents  de- 
scribed in  his  own  language,  than  from  any  more  general  state- 
ments. 

"  About  that  time,  the  parliament  sent  down  an  order  for  the 
demolishing  of  all  statues  and  images  of  any  of  the  three  persons 
in  the  blessed  Trinity,  or  of  the  virgin  Mary,  which  should  be  found 
in  churches,  or  on  the  crosses  in  church-yards.  My  judgment  was 
for  the  obeying  of  this  order,  thinking  it  came  from  just  authority  ; 
but  I  meddled  not  in  it,  but  left  the  church-warden  to  do  what  lie 
thought  good.  The  church-warden,  an  honest,  sober,  quiet  man, 
seeing  a  cracifix  upon  the  cross  in  the  church-yard,  set  up  a  ladder 
to  have  reached  it,  but  it  proved  too  short.  While  he  was  gone  to 
seek  another,  a  crew  of  the  dmnken,  riotous  party  of  the  town, 
took  the  alarm,  and  run  together  with  weapons  to  defend  the  cru- 
cifix and  the  church  images,  of  which  there  were  divers  left  since 
the  time  of  Popery.  The  report  was  among  them  that  I  was  the 
actor,  and  it  was  me  they  sought ;  but  I  was  walking  almost  a  mile 
out  of  town,  or  else  I  suppose  I  had  there  ended  my  days.  When 
they  missed  me  and  the  church-warden  both,  they  went  raving 
about  the  streets  to  seek  us.  Two  neighbors  that  dwelt  in  other 
parishes,  hearing  that  they  sought  my  life,  ran  in  among  them  to 
see  whether  I  were  there ;  and  they  knocked  them  both  down  in 
the  streets,  and  both  of  tliem  are  since  dead,  and  I  think  never 
perfectly  recovered  that  hurt.  When  they  had  foamed  about  half 
an  hour,  and  met  with  none  of  us,  and  were  newly  housed,  I  came 
in  from  my  walk,  and  hearing  the  people  cursing  me  at  their 
doors,  I  wondered  what  the  matter  was,  but  quickly  found  how  I 
had  escaped.  The  next  Lord's  day,  I  dealt  plainly  with  them,  and 
laid  open  to  them  the  quality  of  that  action,  and  told  them,  seeing 
they  so  requited  me  as  to  seek  my  blood,  1  was  willing  to  leave 
them,  and  save  them  from  that  guilt.  But  the  poor  sots  were  so 
amazed  and  ashamed,  that  they  took  on  sorrily,  and  were  loth  to 
part  with  me. 

"  About  this  time,  the  king's  declarations  were  read  in  our  mar- 
ket-place, and  the  reader,  a  violent  country  gentleman,  seeing  me 
pass  the  streets,  stopped  and  said,  '  There  goeth  a  traitor.' 

"  And  the  commission  of  array  was  set  afoot ;  for  the  parliament 
meddled  not  with  the  militia  of  that  county,  the  Lord  Howard, 
their  lieutenant,  not  appearing.  Then  the  rage  of  the  rioters  grew 
greater  than  before.  And  in  prepai-ation  to  the  w;u-,  they  had  got 
the  word  among  them,  '  Down  with  the  round-heads ;'  insomuch 
that  if  a  stranger  passed  in  many  places,  that  had  short  hair  and  a 
civil  habit,  the  rabble  presently  cried, '  Down  with  the  round-heads  ;' 
and  some  they  knocked  down  in  the  open  streets, 

VOL.    I.  8 


58  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER, 

"  In  this  fury  of  the  rabble,  I  was  advised  to  withdraw  awhile 
from  home ;  whereupon  I  went  to  Gloucester.  As  I  passed  but 
through  a  corner  of  the  suburbs  of  Worcester,  they  that  knew  me 
not,  cried,  '  Down  with  the  round-heads  ;'  and  I  was  glad  to  spur 
on  to  be  gone.  But  when  I  came  to  Gloucester,  among  strangers 
also  that  had  never  known  me,  I  found  a  civil,  courteous,  and  reli- 
gious people,  as  different  from  Worcester  as  if  they  had  lived  under 
another  goveniment."* 

The  county  of  Gloucestershu^e  was  as  unanimous  for  the  cause 
of  the  parliament  as  Worcester  was  for  the  cause  of  the  kbg.  But 
Baxter  saw  in  the  religious  aspect  of  Gloucester,  during  his  short 
residence  there,  the  beginnings  of  a  spirit  of  division  and  sectari- 
anism, which  afterwards  produced  in  that  city  the  most  unhappy 
effects.  Fu'st,  there  were  a  few  Baptists,  who,  laboring  to  draw 
disciples  after  them,  occasioned  an  undesirable  controversy.  Then 
came  a  good  man,  zealous  for  Independency,  who  fomied  another 
separating  party.  Afterwards,  Antinomianism  was  introduced. 
And  by  such  means  the  solid  piety  of  the  place  was  dwindled  and 
withered  away. 

After  he  had  been  at  Gloucester  about  a  month,  some  of  his 
friends  came  to  him  from  Kidderminster,  inviting  him  to  return. 
Their  argument  was,  that  the  people  would  be  sure  to  put  the  most 
unfavorable  constmction  on  his  continued  absence.  So,  in  the 
hope  of  retaining  his  influence  and  prolonging  his  usefulness,  even 
in  those  stoiTny  times,  he  went  again  to  his  work. 

"  When  I  came  home,"  he  says,  "  I  found  the  beggarly  dmnk- 
en  rout  in  a  very  tumultuating  disposition ;  and  the  superiors  that 
were  for  the  king  did  animate  them ;  and  the  people  of  the  place 
who  were  accounted  religious,  were  called  round-heads,  and  openly 
reviled,  and  threatened  as  the  king's  enemies,  though  they  had 
never  meddled  in  any  cause  against  the  king.  Every  drunken  sot 
that  met  any  of  them  in  the  streets,  would  tell  them,  '  We  shall  take 
an  order  with  the  Puritans  ere  long.'  And  just  as  at  their  shows, 
and  wakes,  and  stage-plays,  when  the  drink  and  the  spiiit  of  riot 
did  work  together  in  their  heads,  and  the  crowd  encouraged  one 
another,  so  it  was  with  them  now :  they  were  like  tied  mastiffs 
newly  loosed,  and  flew  in  the  face  of  all  that  was  religious,  yea,  or 
civil,  which  came  in  their  way."  "  Yet,  after  the  Lord's  day,  when 
they  heard  the  sermon,  they  would  awhile  be  calmed,  till  they 
came  to  the  alehouse  again,  or  heard  any  of  their  leaders  hiss  them 
on,  or  heard  a  rabble  cry,  '  Down  with  the  round-heads.'  When 
the  wars  began,  almost  all  these  diainkards  went  into  the  king's 
army,  and  were  quickly  killed,  so  that  scarce  a  man  of  them  canie 
home  again  and  survived  the  war."f 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  40,  41.  \  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  42. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  59 

The  war,  which  had  been  opened  a  few  weeks,  was  now  actively 
carried  on  in  Baxter's  immediate  vicinity.  The  army  of  the  king, 
commanded  by  his  nephew,  Prince  Rupert,  and  that  of  the  pariia- 
ment,  commanded  by  the  earl  of  Essex,  met  in  the  county  of 
Worcester  ;  and  the  first  considerable  battle  in  that  long  contest, 
the  battle  of  Edghill,  was  fought  on  a  Lord's  day,  (October  23d,) 
within  Baxter's  hearing,  while  he  was  preaching  in  the  pulpit  of  a 
friend  at  Alcester,  a  few  miles  distant  from  the  scene  of  conflict. 

In  such  circumstances,  he  felt  that  the  peaceful  prosecution  of 
his  work  at  Kidderminster  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  "  For  my- 
self," he  says,  "  I  knew  not  what  course  to  take.  To  live  at  home, 
I  was  uneasy ;  but  especially  now,  when  soldiers  on  one  side  or 
other  would  be  frequently  among  us,  and  we  must  still  be  at  the 
mercy  of  every  furious  beast  that  would  make  a  prey  of  us.  I 
had  neither  money  nor  friends  :  I  knew  not  who  would  receive  me 
in  any  place  of  safety ;  nor  had  I  any  thing  to  satisfy  them  for  my 
diet  and  entertainment.  Hereupon  I  was  persuaded,  by  one  that 
was  with  me,  to  go  to  Coventry,  where  one  of  my  old  acquaintance, 
Mr.  Simon  King,  was  minister ;  so  thither  I  went,  with  a  purpose 
to  stay  there  till  one  side  or  other  had  got  the  victory,  and  the  war 
was  ended,  and  then  to  return  home  again ;  for  so  wise  in  matters 
of  war  was  I,  and  all  the  country  beside,  that  we  commonly  sup- 
posed that  a  very  few  days  or  weeks,  by  one  other  battle,  would 
end  the  wars  ;  and  I  believe  that  no  small  number  of  the  parlia- 
ment men  had  no  more  wit  than  to  think  so  too.  There  I  stayed 
at  Mr.  King's  a  month ;  but  the  war  was  then  as  far  from  being 
likely  to  end  as  before. 

"  While  I  was  thinking  what  course  to  take  in  this  necessity,  the 
committee  and  governor  of  the  city  desired  me  to  stay  with  them, 
and  lodge  in  the  governor's  house,  and  preach  to  the  soldiers.  The 
offer  suited  well  with  my  necessities  ;  but  I  resolved  that  I  would 
not  be  chaplain  to  a  regiment,  nor  take  a  commission ;  yet,  if  the 
mere  preaching  of  a  sermon  once  or  twice  a  week  to  the  garrison 
would  satisfy  them,  I  would  accept  of  the  offer,  till  I  could  go  home 
again.  Here  I  lived  in  the  governor's  house,  and  followed  my 
studies  as  quietly  as  in  a  time  of  peace,  for  about  a  year;  preach- 
ing once  a  week  to  the  soldiers,  and  once,  on  the  Lord's  day,  to 
the  people  ;  not  taking  of  any  of  them  a  penny  for  either,  save  my 
diet  only."* 

Meanwhile  the  war,  instead  of  being  brought  to  a  conclusion,  was 
spreading  its  horrors  over  the  whole  land.  A  few  counties  were 
so  decidedly  for  the  parliament,  and  a  few  others  so  decidedly  for 
the  king,  that  they  enjoyed  comparative  rest ;  elsewhere  every 

*  Narrative,  Pari  I.  pp.  i'^.  44. 


60  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

man's  hand  was  against  his  neighbor.  Indeed,  in  all  places  where 
the  parliament  had  not  the  ascendency,  there  was  no  security  to 
the  country  ;  "  the  multitude  did  what  they  list."  "  If  any  one 
was  noted  for  a  strict  and  famous  preacher,  or  for  a  man  of  precise 
and  pious  life,  he  was  either  plundered,  or  abused  and  in  danger  of 
his  Hfe.  If  a  man  did  but  pray  in  his  family,  or  were  but  heard 
repeat  a  sermon,  or  sing  a  psalm,  they  presently  cried  out.  Rebels, 
round-heads ;  and  all  their  money  and  goods  that  were  portable 
proved  guilty,  how  innocent  soever  they  were  themselves."  This 
it  was  that  filled  the  armies  and  garrisons  of  the  parliament  with 
sober,  pious  men.  "  Thus,  when  I  was  at  Coventry,  the  religious 
part  of  my  neighbors  at  Kidderminster,  that  would  fain  have  lived 
quietly  at  home,  were  forced  (the  chiefest  of  them)  to  be  gone. 
And  to  Coventry  they  came  ;  and  some  of  them,  that  had  any  es- 
tates of  their  own,  lived  there  on  their  own  charge ;  and  the  rest 
were  fain  to  take  up  arais  and  be  garrison  soldiers,  to  get  them 
bread." 

Under  such  persecutions,  Baxter's  father,  in  Shropshire,  and  all 
his  neighbors  that  were  noted  for  praying,  and  hearmg  sermons, 
were  afflicted.  In  the  hope  of  rendering  some  aid  to  his  father,  he 
was  induced  to  leave  Coventry  for  a  few  weeks,  in  company  with 
a  party  who  went  to  fortify  and  garrison  one  of  the  towns  in  that 
county,  Thei'e  he  saw  some  fighting,  such  as  was  then  going  on 
almost  every  where.  His  father  he  found  in  prison  at  Lillshul. 
Having  relieved  him,  he  returned  to  Coventry  after  two 
months'  absence.  There  he  settled  again  in  his  old  habitation 
and  employment,  and  followed  his  studies  in  quietness  another 
year. 

At  Coventry,  he  says,  he  had  a  very  judicious  auditory,  and  he 
records  the  names  of  many  whom  he  regarded  whh  particular  affec- 
tion. There  were  also  in  that  place,  during  the  period  of  his  resi- 
dence there,  about  thirty  worthy  ministers,  who,  like  him,  had  fled 
thither  for  safety  from  the  soldiers  and  from  popular  fury.  "I 
have  cause,"  he  adds,  "  of  continual  thankfulness  to  God  for  the 
quietness  and  safety,  and  sober,  wise,  religious  company,  with  liber- 
ty to  preach  the  gospel,  which  he  vouchsafed  me  in  this  city,  when 
other  places  were  in  the  terrors  and  flames  of  war." 

The  garrison,  to  which  he  was  chaplain,  he  describes  as  a  com- 
munity in  which  there  was  much  of  the  spirit  of  devotion,  and  at 
the  same  time  no  inconsiderable  degi-ee  of  intelligence  on  religious 
subjects.  Some  men  of  sectarian  principles,  and  of  a  dividing 
disposition,  gave  him  plenty  of  employment.  He  says  he  "  preach- 
ed over  all  the  controversies  against  the  Anabaptists  first,  and  then 
against  the  Separatists."  The  Baptists,  detemiined  not  to  be  put 
down  b\-  his  learning  and  aculeness,  sent  abroad  for  a  minister  of 


^%^ 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  61 

their  persuasion,  who  was  no  contemptible  scholar ;  and  with  him 
Baxter  held  a  disputation,  first  by  word  of  mouth,  and  afterwards 
in  writing.  The  result  was  that  a  few  of  the  townsmen  became 
Baptists,  and  a  Baptist  church  was  then  planted  in  that  city,  which 
continues  to  this  day.  *  The  garrison,  however,  and  the  rest  of  the 
city,  "  were  kept  sound." 

The  two  years  which  Baxter  spent  at  Gloucester,  were  years  of 
convulsion  and  blood  throughout  England.  The  detail  of  battles, 
and  sieges,  and  occasional  attempts  at  pacification,  is  no  part  of  our 
design.  Every  part  of  the  kingdom  being  in  arms,  the  war  was 
carried  on  with  various  success,  and  with  little  progress  towards  a 
conclusion ;  and  at  the  close  of  the  first  year,  there  was  more  pros- 
pect of  a  long-continued  conflict  than  at  the  beginning.  At  this 
time,  the  parliament,  somewhat  disheartened,  perhaps,  by  the  recent 
successes  of  the  royal  forces,  invited  aid  from  Scotland.  The 
Scots,  mflamed  with  zeal  for  the  divine  right  of  their  Presbyterian 
church  government,  insisted  on  a  unifonnity  of  doctrine,  worship, 
and  discipline,  in  the  two  kingdoms,  as  the  condition  on  which  their 
assistance  was  to  be  afforded.  A  solemn  league  and  covenant  for 
the  extirpation  of  Popery,  prelacy,  superstition,  heresy,  schism,  and 
profaneness,  was  framed  in  Scotland,  and,  after  having  undergone 
some  amendments  designed  to  make  it  somewhat  less  strict  in  its 
constmction,  was  with  great  solemnity  adopted  and  subscribed  by 
both  houses  of  parliament,  and  by  the  assembly  of  divines  then 
sitting  at  Westminster.  This  covenant  was  ordered  to  be  sworn  to 
and  subscribed  by  all  persons  over  the  age  of  eighteen  years, 
throughout  the  kingdom. 

From  about  this  time,  parties  began  to  be  distinctly  formed  both 
in  the  parliament  and  among  its  adherents.  Heretofore  all  had 
been  united  in  the  common  cause  of  reforming  the  existing  hierar- 
chy. What  ecclesiastical  system  should  take  the  place  of  that 
which  they  proposed  to  overturn,  had  not  been  discussed,  much 
less  determined.  Many,  perhaps  the  majority  of  sober  men,  were 
for  a  moderate,  or,  as  they  styled  it,  a  primitive  episcopacy.  Oth- 
ers preferred  the  platform  of  Geneva  and  of  the  churches  of  Hol- 
land, which  had  been  adopted,  with  only  slight  modifications,  in 
Scotland.  Others,  disapproving  of  all  national  and  provincial 
churches,  favored  the  scheme  on  which  the  churches  of  New  Eng- 
land had  been  fomied ;  and  these,  deeming  no  act  of  parliament 
necessary  to  give  them  authority,  gathered  separate  churches,  as 
they  had  opportunity,  on  the  Congregational  plan.  But  now  the 
zeal  of  the  Scots  for  their  Presbyterianism,  and  their  intrigues  to  in- 
troduce their  uniformity  into  the  sister  kingdom,  divided  those  who 

*  Orme. 


€2  LIFE    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

liad  been  hitherto  agreed ;  and  this  was  the  rock  on  which  was 
wrecked  tlie  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty  in  England. 

Cotemporaneously  with  this  division  of  opbions  in  relation  to 
ecclesiastical  polity,  there  was  drawn,  insensibly,  between  the  same 
parties,  another  line  of  distinction,  which  related  to  the  conduct  and 
the  expected  conclusion  of  the  war.  The  Presbyterians  seem  to 
have  calculated  on  the  continuance  of  the  kingly  name,  and  some- 
thing of  the  kingly  power :  their  plan  was  to  establish  their  favor- 
ite uniformity,  and  to  secure  it,  as  had  already  been  done  in  Scot- 
land, before  entering  mto  any  final  agreement  with  the  king.  To 
this  party  naturally  adhered  all  those  men  of  moderate  feelings  and 
principles,  who  hoped  for  a  reconciliation.  The  Independents,  on 
the  other  hand,  saw  clearly  that  Charles  could  never  be  trusted ; 
they  had  no  expectation  that  he  could  be  brought  to  approve  their 
scheme  for  the  entire  disjunction  of  church  and  state,  and  for  the 
establishment  of  entire  religious  liberty  ;  and  they  thought  that  if 
it  was  lawful  to  carry  on  war  against  the  king,  it  was  equally  law- 
ful to  conquer  him,  and  that  if  the  nation  had  been  reduced  to  an- 
archy by  his  forfeiture  of  the  tmst  reposed  in  him,  the  nation  was 
in  circumstances  which  justified  the  adoption  of  another  and  a  bet- 
ter form  of  government.  With  them  were  of  course  allied  that 
class  of  men,  who  were  in  love  with  the  abstract  rights  of  the  peo- 
ple, and  who  desired  to  see  the  throne  and  the  aristocracy  both 
giving  way  to  the  fairer  institutions  of  a  republic. 

The  assembly  of  divines  at  Westminster  has  already  been  re- 
ferred to ;  and  as  that  body  is  hardly  less  famous  in  the  history  of 
those  times  than  the  parliament  itself,  some  notice  of  its  constitu- 
tion and  character  will  not  be  irrelevant  in  this  place.  The  West- 
minster Assembly  was  not  a  national  synod  or  convocation,  nor 
did  it  pretend  to  represent  at  all  either  the  churches  or  the  minis- 
ters. It  consisted  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-one  divines,  with 
thirty  lay-assessors,  called  together  by  parliament  to  give  advice 
on  such  questions  as  might  be  referred  to  them  by  the  houses  ;  and 
to  questions  thus  referred,  all  their  debates  and  proceedings  were 
expressly  confined,  by  the  parliamentary  ordinance  which  brought 
them  together.  "The  divines  there  congregated,"  says  Baxter, 
"  were  men  of  eminent  learning,  godliness,  ministerial  abilities, 
and  fidelity ;  and  being  not  worthy  to  be  one  of  them  myself,  I 
may  the  more  freely  speak  that  truth  which  I  know,  even  in  the 
face  of  malice  and  envy,  that  as  far  as  I  am  able  to  judge  by  the 
information  of  all  history  of  that  kind,  and  by  any  other  evidences 
left  us,  the  Christian  world,  since  the  days  of  the  apostles,  had 
never  a  synod  of  more  excellent  divines,  taking  one  thmg  with 
another,  than  this  and  the  Synod  of  Dort." 

The  assembly  was  composed  chiefly  of  those  ministers  who,  like 


LIFE  OP  RICHARD  BAXTER.  63 

Baxter,  retaining  their  connection  with  the  church  of  England, 
were  known  to  favor  the  cause  of  the  parhament  against  the  king, 
and  to  desire  a  thorough  reformation.  Several  of  the  most  learn- 
ed Episcopal  divines,  some  of  them  prelates,  among  whom  was 
the  Irish  primate,  Archbishop  Usher,  were  chosen  as  members ; 
but  the  king  having  declared  himself  against  the  assembly,  they 
refused  to  take  their  seats.  A  few  of  that  party,  however,  came ; 
but  their  leader.  Dr.  Featly,  was  after  a  while  detected  in  a  corre- 
spondence with  the  king,  and  for  that  ofience  was  imprisoned. 
And  that  all  sides  might  be  heard,  six  or  seven  Independents  were 
added,  five  of  whom  took  an  active  part  in  the  proceedings  of  the 
assembly,  and  were  known  as  the  "  dissenting  brethren."  "  These," 
Baxter  says,  "joined  with  the  rest  till  they  had  drawn  up  a  con- 
fession of  faith,  and  a  larger  and  a  shorter  catechism.  But  when 
they  came  to  church  government,  they  engaged  them  in  many 
long  debates,  and  kept  that  business,  as  long  as  possibly  they 
could,  undetennined.  And  after  that,  they  kept  it  so  long  un- 
executed in  almost  all  parts  of  the  land,  saving  London  and 
Lancashire,  that  then*  party  had  time  to  strengthen  themselves  in 
the  army  and  the  parhament,  and  hinder  the  execution  after  all, 
and  keep  the  government  detemiined  on,  a  stranger  to  most  of 
the  people  of  this  land,  who  knew  it  but  by  hearsay,  as  it  was 
represented  by  reporters. " 

This  view  of  the  influence  of  the  five  dissenting  brethren  in  the 
Westminster  Assembly,  seems  to  be  somewhat  extravagant.  The 
fact  was,  the  Scots  were  earned  away  with  the  hope  of  reducing 
England  and  Ireland,  by  law  and  conquest,  to  a  uniformity  of  reli- 
gion with  them ;  and  their  partisans  in  the  assembly  and  parlia- 
ment, and  among  the  clergy,  soon  caught  from  the  covenant  the 
same  spirit.  Great  mistakes  as  to  the  nature  of  church  govern- 
ment, and  as  to  the  authority  of  civil  magistrates  in  matters  of  reli- 
gion, were  widely  prevalent.  Some  politicians,  and  they  had  able 
divines  to  support  them,  held  that  there  ought  to  be  no  church 
government,  no  power  to  debar  from  church  privileges  and  ordi- 
nances, but  in  the  hands  or  under  the  control  of  the  civil  magistrate. 
These  were  called  Erastians.  Others  held  that  the  church  was 
independent  of  the  state ;  but  with  this  vital  truth  they  held  the 
miserable  error,  that  the  magistrate  is  bound  to  sustain  the  church, 
and  to  enforce  uniform  obedience  to  what  the  church  decides. 
This  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Presbyterians  as  a  party.  They 
claimed  that  Christ  had  established,  in  and  over  his  church,  a  gov- 
ernment entirely  distinct  from  the  civil  magistracy  ;  that  this  gov- 
ernment was  none  other  than  that  by  parochial  sessions,  classical 
presbyteries,  provincial  synods,  and  national  assemblies  ;  and  that 
the  government  of  the  commonwealth  was  bound  to  support  this 


64  LIFE   OP   RICHARD   BAXTER. 

system  in  the  church,  and  to  make  all  men  respect  and  obey  the 

decrees  of  this  spiritual  authority.  The  Independents  took  a  dif- 
ferent ground.  They  beheved,  indeed,  that  the  power  of  admis- 
sion to  church  privileges,  and  of  exclusion  from  ordinances,  was 
independent  of  the  civil  government ;  but  they  believed  that  this 
power  resided,  both  by  a  right  resting  on  the  principles  of  common 
sense,  and  by  a  right  resting  on  divine  authority,  in  the  officers  and 
members  of  each  particular  church,  and  there  only.  They  had 
seceded  from  the  church  of  England,  and  had  assumed  their  nat- 
ural liberty  of  forming  churches  and  worshipping  God  according  to 
their  own  views  of  propriety,  without  asking  leave  of  the  govern- 
ment ;  and  they  had  engaged  in  this  war  for  the  vindication  of 
what  they  supposed  to  be  their  natural  liberty.  In  opposition, 
therefore,  not  only  to  the  prelatical  party,  but  to  the  Presbyterians, 
and  the  Erastians,  they  were  for  a  toleration  ;  and  while  it  does 
not  appear  that  they  were,  as  a  body,  unwilling  to  have  any  public 
provision  for  the  support  of  religious  instruction,  they  were  zealous 
for  an  entire  separation  between  church  and  state. 

The  Presbyterians  had  a  numerical  majority  in  parliament,  and 
a  still  stronger  majority  in  the  assembly  of  divines ;  for,  on  almost 
every  question  between  them  and  the  Independents,  all  who  were 
for  a  church  establishment,  all  who  believed  it  to  belong  to  the 
magistrate  to  interfere  with  his  authority  in  matters  of  religion,  and 
all  who  deemed  uniformity  in  doctrine,  discipline  and  worship,  an 
object  of  supreme  importance,  acted  with  that  party.  The  Inde- 
pendents, however,  had  on  their  side  some  of  the  most  active,  adroit 
and  efficient  men  in  parliament ;  they  had  a  plain  and  popular 
cause ;  and  they  had,  as  their  natural  allies,  the  Baptists  and  the 
numerous  minor  sects  which  were  beginning  to  spring  up  from  the 
chaotic  and  fermenting  elements.  With  these  advantages  they 
were  able  at  fost  to  hinder  and  embarrass,  and  at  last  to  defeat,  the 
scheme  of  Presbyterian  uniformity. 

In  the  army,  especially,  the  cause  of  the  Independents  made 
rapid  progress.  The  soldiers  had  been  all  along  fighting,  as  they 
supposed,  against  unwarrantable  impositions  on  the  conscience  ;  and 
when  they  found  that  they  had  fought  do\vn  one  hierarchy,  only 
that  the  parliament  and  the  assembly  of  divines  might  set  up  an- 
other, they  began  to  entertain  a  not  unreasonable  dissatisfaction* 
Nor  was  the  nation  at  large  long  indifferent  to  these  considerations. 
Thousands  began  to  see  that,  as  Milton  phrased  it, 

"  New  presbyter  is  but  old  priest  writ  large  ;" 
and  with  Milton  they  were  ready  to  cry  out, 

"  Because  you  have  tlirown  off  your  prelate  lord, 
And  with  stiff  vows  renounced  his  liturgy, 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  66 

Dare  ye  for  this  adjure  the  civil  sword 

To  force  our  consciences,  that  Christ  set  free, 

And  ride  us  with  a  classic  hierarchy  ?  " 

It  was  such  causes  as  these,  rather  than  the  simple  efforts  of  the 
five  dissenting  brethren  in  the  assembly,  which  kept  the  Presbyte- 
rian scheme  of  church  government  "  so  long  unexecuted  in  almost 
all  parts  of  the  land,"  and  which  "hindered  the  execution  of  it 
after  all." 

Toward  the  close  of  Baxter's  second  year  at  Coventry,  an  im- 
portant change  took  place  in  the  anny.  The  earl  of  Essex  had 
heretofore  been  commander-in-chief  for  the  parliament.  But 
about  this  time,  there  began  to  be  dissatisfaction  both  with  him  and 
with  the  armies  which  he  commanded.  Men  who  had  looked  into 
the  tendency  and  probable  results  of  the  existing  state  of  things, 
and  who  judged  that  the  safest  way  was  to  make  thorough  work, 
and  to  conclude  the  war  by  victory,  saw  that  Essex  and  some  other 
leaders  in  the  army  were  of  a  different  judgment.  It  appeared 
that  the  generals,  even  when  putting  the  battle  in  array  against  the 
king,  were  unwilling  to  conquer  hhn  ;  and  the  complaint  was  made 
that,  on  some  occasions,  when  an  active  pursuit  might  have  finished 
the  war,  the  king  and  his  forces  were  suffered  to  escape.  Yet  Es- 
sex was  a  man  in  great  esteem  with  the  parliament  and  with  the 
people,  as  well  as  with  the  army,  and  deservedly  honored,  both  for 
his  military  qualities  and  for  his  noble  integrity  of  character.  And, 
indeed,  there  were  many,  who,  fearing  vi^hat  might  be  attempted 
by  the  ambitious  and  the  turbulent,  desired  a  peace  with  the  king 
on  the  basis  of  mutual  accommodation,  rather  than  a  complete  tri- 
umph over  him,  reducing  him  to  unqualified  submission.  All  this 
made  it  the  more  difficult  for  those  who  favored  more  decisive 
measures  to  bring  about  the  changes  which  they  desired. 

Other  complaints  were  made  against  the  army  as  then  consti- 
tuted. "  Though  none  could  deny  that  the  earl  was  a  person  of 
great  honor,  valor  and  sincerity,  yet  some  did  accuse  the  soldiers 
under  him  of  being  too  like  the  king's  soldiers  in  profaneness,  lewd 
and  vicious  practices,  and  rudeness  of  carriage  toward  the  country  ; 
and  it  was  withal  urged  that  the  revolt  of"  several  officers,  who, 
since  the  commencement  of  the  war,  had  gone  over  to  the  king, 
"  was  a  satisfying  evidence  that  the  irreligious  sort  of  men  were 
not  to  be  much  trusted,  but  might  easily,  by  money,  be  hired  to 
betray  them."*  At  the  same  time,  it  appeared  that  Cromwell's 
troops,  enlisted  by  him,  and  trained  under  his  eye  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  war,  and  every  where  known  as  strictly  religious  men, 
had  become  the  most  efficient  portion  of  the  army,  and  were  most 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p-  47. 
VOL.   I.  9 


66  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

■at: 

to  be  depended  on  for  discipline  and  order  in  the  camp,  and  for 
valor  iii  tlie  field  of  battle.  These  things  made  the  religious  sort 
of  men  in  parliament,  in  the  army,  and  in  the  country,  desirous  of 
a  thorough  change  in  the  organization  of  the  army,  *"  putting  out 
the  loose  sort  of  men,  especially  officers,  and  putting  religious  men 
in  their  steads." 

To  effect  so  great  a  change  without  mutiny  or  serious  dissatis- 
faction, was  a  problem  not  easily  solved.  All  was  accomplished, 
however,  without  any  difficulty,  by  a  single  vote  of  parliament. 
An  ordinance  was  framed,  afterwards  known  as  the  "  self-denying 
ordinance,"  by  which  all  members  of  either  house  were  excluded 
from  almost  every  office,  civil  or  military,  during  the  war.  For 
this  measure  so  many  reasons  were  alledged,  that  after  a  few  days' 
debate,  it  passed  without  any  formidable  opposition.  Nearly  all 
the  principal  officers  of  the  army  immediately  sent  in  their  com- 
missions. Fairfax,  a  man  of  good  military  talents,  and  of  great 
integrity  of  character,  but  without  the  ambition  or  the  peculiar  skill 
to  be  a  leader  in  such  times,  was  made  commander-in-chief;  and, 
at  his  request,  Cromwell  was  exempted  fi-om  the  operation  of  the 
self-denying  ordinance,  and  was  made  lieutenant-general.  The 
master  genius  of  Cromwell  gave  him  a  great  ascendency  over  his 
nominal  superior  ;  and  the  army  was  soon  entirely  re-organized 
under  his  supervision,  and  very  much  according  to  the  wishes  of 
the  Independents,  though  Fairfax  himself  was  a  devoted  Presby- 
terian. No  sooner  had  the  new-modeled  army  taken  the  field, 
dian  the  effect  of  these  new  counsels  and  commands  was  evident. 
The  fii'st  engagement  of  this  army  with  the  royal  forces,  was  the 
decisive  battle  of  Naseby. 

In  this  aniiy,  Baxter  became  a  chaplain.  His  views  in  enter- 
ing the  army,  and  his  employment  and  efforts  while  there,  were 
highly  characteristic  of  the  man  in  all  his  peculiarities.  His  account, 
however,  of  Cromwell,  and  of  the  spirit  which  prevailed  in  the 
army,  should  be  read  with  some  allowance  for  the  influence  of  pre- 
judices which,  even  in  his  old  age,  had  not  forsaken  him,  and  of 
disappointments  which,  in  all  his  latter  years  especially,  he  had 
much  reason  to  remember. 

"  Naseby  being  not  far  from  Coventry,  where  I  was,  and  the  noise 
of  the  victory  being  loud  in  our  ears,  and  I  having  two  or  three, 
that  of  old  had  been  my  intimate  friends,  in  CromwelFs  aimy, 
whom  I  had  not  seen  for  above  two  years,  I  was  desirous  to  see 
whether  they  were  dead  or  alive  ;  and  so  to  Naseby  field  I  went, 
two  days  after  the  fight,  and  thence  by  the  army's  quarters  before 
Leicester,  to  seek  my  acquaintance.  When  I  found  them,  I  staid 
with  them  a  night ;  and  I  understood  the  state  of  the  army  much 
better  than  ever  I  had  done  before.     We  that  lived  quietly  in 


hlFF.    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER  fiT 

Coventry  did  keep  to  our  old  principles,  and  thought  all  others 
had  done  so  too,  except  a  very  few  inconsiderable  persons.  We 
were  unfeignedly  for  king  and  parliament ;  we  believed  that  tlie 
war  was  only  to  save  the  parliament  and  kingdom  from  Papists 
and  delinquents,  and  to  remove  the  dividers,  that  the  king  might 
again  return  to  his  parliament ;  and  that  no  changes  might  be  ma;de 
in  religion,  but  by  the  laws  whidi  had  his  free  consent.  We  took 
the  true  happiness  of  king  and  people,  church  and  state,  to  be  our 
end,  and  so  we  understood  the  covenant,  engaging  both  against 
Papists  and  schismatics ;  and  when  the  Court  News-book  told 
the  world  of  the  swarms  of  Anabaptists  in  our  armies,  we  thought 
it  had  been  a  mere  lie,  because  it  was  not  so  with  us,  nor  in 
any  of  the  garrison  or  county  forces  about  us.  But  when  I  came 
to  the  anny,  among  Cromwell's  soldiers,  I  found  a  new  face  of 
things,  which  I  never  dreamt  of;  I  heard  the  plotting  heads  very 
hot  upon  that  which  intimated  their  intention  to  subvert  both 
church  and  state." 

"Abundance  of  the  common  troopers,  and  many  of  the  officers, 
I  found  to  be  honest,  sober,  orthodox  men ;  and  others  tractable, 
ready  to  hear  the  truth,  and  of  upright  intentions.  But  a  few 
proud,  self-conceited,  hot-headed  sectaries  had  got  into  the  high- 
est places,  and  were  Cromwell's  chief  favorites  ;  and,  by  their  very 
heat  and  activity,  bore  down  the  rest,  or  earned  them  along  with 
them.  These  were  the  soul  of  the  army,  though  much  fewer  in 
number  than  the  rest,  being,  indeed,  not  one  to  twenty  throughout 
the  army ;  their  strength  being  in  the  general's,  in  Whalley's  and 
in  Rich's  regiments  of  horse,  and  among  the  new-placed  officers 
in  many  of  the  rest. 

"  I  perceived  that  they  took  the  king  for  a  tyrant  and  an 
enemy,  and  really  intended  absolutely  to  master  him,  or  to  ruin 
him.  They  thought  if  they  might  fight  against  him.  they  might 
also  kill  or  conquer  him ;  and  if  they  might  conquer,  they  were 
never  more  to  tnist  him,  further  than  he  was  in  their  power. 
They  thought  it  folly  to  irritate  him  either  by  wars  or  contradictions 
in  parliament,  if  so  be  they  must  needs  take  liiin  for  their  king, 
and  trust  him  with  their  lives,  when  they  had  thus  displeased  him. 
They  said,  'What  were  the  lords  of  England,  but  William  the 
Conqueror's  colonels  ;  or  the  barons,  but  his  majors  ;  or  the  knights, 
but  his  captains  ! '  They  plainly  showed  me,  that  they  thought 
God's  providence  would  cast  the  trust  of  religion  and  the  king- 
dom upon  them  as  eonquerors ;  they  made  nothing  of  all  the  most 
wise  and  godly  in  the  annies  and  garrisons,  that  were  not  of  their 
way.  Per  fas  aut  nefas,  by  law  or  without  it,  they  were  resolved 
to  take  down  not  only  bishops,  and  hturgy,  and  ceremonies,  but  all 
that  did  withstand  their  way.     They  were  far  from  thinking  of  a 


68  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

moderate  episcopacy,  or  of  any  healing  way  between  the  Episco- 
pahans  and  the  Presbyterians;  they  most  honored  the  Separatists, 
Anabaptists,  and  Antinomians ;  but  Cromwell  and  his  council  took 
on  them  to  join  themselves  to  no  party,  but  to  be  for  the  liberty  of 
all.  Two  sorts,  1  perceived,  they  did  so  commonly  and  bitterly 
speak  against,  that  it  was  done  in  mere  design,  to  make  them  odi- 
ous to  the  soldiers,  and  to  all  the^and;  and  these  were,  first,  the 
Scots,  and  with  them  all  Presbyterians,  but  especially  the  minis- 
ters ;  whom  they  called  '  priests,'  and  '  priestbyters,'  '  dryvines,' 
and  '  the  dissemblymen,'  and  such  like ;  secondly,  the  committees 
of  the  several  counties,  and  all  the  soldiers  that  were  under  them, 
that  were  not  of  their  mind  and  way.  Some  orthodox  captains  of 
the  army  did  partly  acquaint  me  with  all  this,  and  I  heard  much 
of  it  from  the  mouths  of  the  leading  sectaries  themselves.  This 
struck  me  to  the  heart,  and  made  me  fear  that  England  was  lost 
by  those  that  it  had  taken  for  its  chief  friends. 

"  Upon  this  I  began  to  blame  other  ministers  and  myself.  I 
saw  that  it  was  the  ministers  that  had  lost  all,  by  forsaking  the  ar- 
my, and  betaking  themselves  to  an  easier  and  quieter  way  of  life. 
When  the  earl  of  Essex  went  out  first,  each  regiment  had  an  able 
preacher ;  but  at  Edghill  fight,  almost  all  of  them  went  home  ;  and 
as  the  sectaries  increased,  they  were  more  averse  to  go  into  the 
army.  It  is  true,  I  believe,  that,  now,  they  had  little  invitation ; 
and  it  is  true,  that  they  could  look  for  but  little  welcome,  and 
great  contempt  and  opposition,  beside  all  other  difficulties  and 
dangers ;  but  it  is  as  tme,  that  their  worth  and  labor,  in  a  patient, 
self-denying  way,  would  have  been  likely  to  preserve  most  of  the 
army,  and  to  defeat  the  contrivances  of  the  sectaries,  and  to  save 
the  king,  the  parliament,  and  the  land.  And  if  it  had  brought  re- 
proach upon  them  from  the  malicious,  who  called  them  Military 
Levites,  the  good  which  they  had  done  would  have  wiped  off  that 
blot  much  better  than  the  contrary  course  would  do. 

"  I  reprehended  myself  also,  who  had  before  rejected  an  invita- 
tion front  Cromwell.  When  he  lay  at  Cambridge,  long  before, 
with  that  famous  troop  which  he  began  his  army  with,  his  officers 
purposed  to  make  their  troop  a  gathered  church,  and  they  all  sub- 
scribed an  invitation  to  me  to  be  their  pastor,  and  sent  it  me,  to 
Coventry.  I  sent  them  a  denial,  reproving  their  attempt,  and 
told  them  wherein  my  judgment  was  against  the  lawfulness  and 
convenience  of  their  way,  and  so  I  heard  no  more  from  them ; 
and  afterwards,  meeting  Cromwell  at  Leicester,  he  expostulated 
with  me  for  denying  them.  These  very  men  that  then  invited 
me  to  be  their  pastor  were  the  men  that  afterwards  headed 
much  of  the  army,  and  some  of  them  were  the  forwardest  in  all 
our   changes;    which    made    me   wish    that  I   had  gone  among 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  69 

them,  howevei-  it  liad  been  interpreted ;  for  then  all  the  fire  was  in 
one  spark. 

"  When  I  had  informed  myself,  to  my  sorrow,  of  the  state  of  the 
army,  Captain  Evanson  (one  of  my  orthodox  informers)  desired 
me  yet  to  come  to  their  regiment,  telling  me  that  it  was  the  most 
religious,  most  valiant,  most  successful  of  all  the  amiy ;  but  in  as 
much  danger  as  any  one  whatsoever.  I  was  unwilling  to  leave  my 
studies,  and  friends,  and  quietness,  at  Coventry,  to  go  into  an  army 
so  contrary  to  my  judgment ;  but  I  thought  the  public  good  com- 
manded me,  and  so  I  gave  him  some  encouragement.  Whereupon 
he  told  his  colonel,  (Whalley,*)  who  also  was  orthodox  in  religion, 
but  engaged  by  kindred  and  interest  to  Cromwell.  He  invited  me 
to  be  chaplain  to  his  regiment,  and  I  told  him  I  would  take  but  one 
day's  time  to  deliberate,  and  would  send  him  an  answer  or  else 
come  to  him. 

"  As  soon  as  I  came  home  to  Coventry,  I  called  together  an  as- 
sembly of  ministers ;  Dr.  Bryan,  Dr.  Grew,  and  many  others.  I 
told  them  the  sad  news  of  the  corruption  of  the  army,  and  that  I 
thought  all  we  had  valued  was  likely  to  be  endangered  by  them ; 
seeing  this  army  having  first  conquered  at  York,  and  now  at  Nase- 
by,  and  having  left  the  king  no  visible  army  but  Goring's,  the  fate 
of  the  whole  kingdom  was  likely  to  follow  the  disposition  and  inte- 
rest of  the  conquerors.  We  have  sw^orn  to  be  true  to  the  king  and 
his  heirs,  in  the  oath  of  allegiance.  All  our  soldiers  here  do  think 
that  the  parliament  is  fliithful  to  the  king,  and  have  no  other  pur- 
pose themselves.  If  king  and  parliament,  church  and  state,  be 
ruined  by  those  men,  and  we  look  on,  and  do  nothing  to  hinder  it, 
how  are  w^e  true  to  our  allegiance  and  to  the  covenant,  which 
bindeth  us  to  defend  the  king,  and  to  be  against  schism,  as  well  as 
against  Popery  and  profaneness  ?  For  my  part,  said  I,  I  know 
that  my  body  is  so  weak  that  it  is  likely  to  hazard  my  life  to  be 
among  them ;  I  expect  their  fury  should  do  little  less  than  rid  me 
out  of  their  way ;  and  I  know  one  man  cannot  do  much  among 
them :  but  yet,  if  your  judgment  take  it  to  be  my  duty,  I  will  ven- 
ture my  life ;  .perhaps  some  other  minister  may  be  drawn  in,  and 
then  some  more  of  the  evil  may  be  prevented, 

"  The  ministers,  finding  my  own  judgment  for  it,  and  being  moved 
with  the  cause,  did  unanimously  give  their  judgment  for  my  going. 
Hereupon,  I  went  straight  to  the  committee,  and  told  them  that  I 
had  an  invitation  to  the  army,  and  desired  their  consent  to  go. 
They  consulted  awhile,  and  then  left  it  wholly  to  the  governor, 

*Tliis  Whalley  is  the  man  who,  many  years  afterwards,  with  his  son-in-law, 
Goffe,  found  refuge  from  the  vengeance  of  the  English  court  among  the  repub- 
lican settlers  of  New  England.  The  history  of  the  regicide  judges  is  too  well 
known  in  this  country  to  need  repetition  here. 


70  LIFE    OF    RICHA.RD    BAXTER. 

saying,  that,  if  he  consented,  they  should  not  hinder  me.  It  fell  out 
that  Colonel  Barker,  the  governor,  was  just  then  to  be  turned  out, 
as  a  member  of  parliament,  by  the  self-denying  vote  ;  and  one  of  his 
captains  (Colonel  Willoughby)  was  to  be  colonel  and  governor 
in  his  place.  Hereupon  Colonel  Barker  was  content,  in  his  dis- 
content, that  I  should  go  out  with  him,  that  he  might  be  missed 
the  more ;  and  so  gave  me  his  consent. 

"  Hereupon  I  sent  word  to  Col.  Whalley,  that,  to-morrow,  God 
willing,  I  would  come  to  him.  As  soon  as  this  was  done,  the 
elected  governor  was  much  displeased ;  and  the  soldiers  were  so 
much  offended  at  the  committee  for  consenting  to  my  going,  that 
the  committee  all  met  again  in  the  night,  and  sent  for  me,  and 
told  me  I  must  not  go.  1  told  them  that,  by  their  consent,  1  had 
promised,  and  therefore  must  go.  They  told  me  that  the  soldiers 
w^ere  ready  to  mutiny  against  them,  and  they  could  not  satisfy 
them,  and  therefore  I  must  stay.  I  told  them  that  I  would  not 
have  promised,  if  they  had  not  consented,  though,  being  no  soldier 
or  chaplain  to  the  garrison,  but  only  preaching  to  them,  I  took 
myself  to  be  a  free  man,  and  I  could  not  break  my  word,  when  I 
had  promised  by  their  consent.  They  seemed  to  deny  their  con- 
sent, and  said  they  only  referred  me  to  the  governor.  In  a  word, 
they  were  so  angry  with  me,  that  I  was  fain  to  tell  them  all  the 
truth  of  my  motives  and  design,  what  a  case  I  perceived  the  army 
to  be  in,  and  that  I  was  resolved  to  do  my  best  against  it.  I  knew 
not,  till  afterwards,  that  Colonel  William  Purefoy,  a  parliament- 
man,  one  of  the  chief  of  them,  was  a  confident  of  Cromwell's ; 
and  as  soon  as  I  had  spoken  what  I  did  of  the  army,  magisterially 
he  answereth  me, '  Let  me  hear  no  more  of  that :  if  Nol  Cromwell 
should  hear  any  soldier  but  speak  such  word,  he  would  cleave  his 
crown :  you  do  them  wrong.  It  is  not  so.'  I  told  him  what  he 
would  not  hear,  he  should  not  hear  from  me ;  but  I  would  perform 
my  word  though  he  seemed  to  deny  his.  And  so  I  parted  with 
those  that  had  been  my  very  great  friends,  in  some  displeasure. 
The  soldiers,  however,  threatened  to  stop  the  gates  and  keep  me 
in ;  but,  being  honest,  understanding  men,  I  quickly  satisfied  the 
leaders  of  them  by  a  private  intimation  of  my  reasons  and  resolu- 
tions, and  some  of  them  accompanied  me  on  my  way. 

"  As  soon  as  I  came  to  the  army,  Oliver  Cromwell  coldly  bade 
me  welcome,  and  never  spake  one  word  to  me  more  while  I  was 
there ;  nor  once,  all  that  time,  vouchsafed  me  an  opportunity  to 
come  to  the  head-quarters,  where  the  councils  and  meetings  of  the 
officers  were ;  so  that  -most  of  my  design  was  thereby  fmstrated. 
His  secretary  gave  out  that  there  was  a  reformer  come  to  the  amiy 
to  undeceive  them,  and  to  save  church  and  state,  with  some  such 
other  jeers ;  by  which  I  perceived  that  all  I  had  said  the  night 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  71 

before  to  the  committee,  had  come  to  Cromwell  before  rae,  I 
beheve  by  Colonel  Purefoy's  means ;  but  Colonel  Whalley  wel- 
comed me,  and  was  the  worse  thought  of  for  it  by  the  re§t  of  the 
cabal. 

"  Here  I  set  myself,  from  day  to  day,  to  find  out  the  conxiptions 
of  the  soldiers,  and  to  discourse  and  dispute  them  out  of  their  mis- 
takes, both  religious  and  political.  My  life  among  them  was  a 
daily  contending  against  seducers,  and  gently  arguing  with  the 
more  tractable ;  and  another  kind  of  militia  I  had  than  theirs. 

"  I  found  that  many  hone.-.t  men,  of  weak  judgments  and  little 
acquaintance  with  such  matters,  had  been  seduced  into  a  disputing 
vein,  and  made  it  too  much  of  their  religion  to  talk  for  this  opinion 
and  for  that ;  sometimes  for  state  democracy,  and  sometimes  for' 
church  democracy ;  sometimes  against  forms  of  prayer,  and  some- 
times against  infant  baptism,  which  yet  some  of  them  did  maintain  ; 
sometimes  against  set  times  of  prayer,  and  against  the  tying  of  our- 
selves to  any  duty  before  the  Spirit  move  us  ;  and  sometimes  about 
free-grace  and  free-will,  and  all  the  points  of  Antinomianism  and 
Arminianism.  So  that  I  was  almost  always,  when  I  had  opportu- 
nity, disputing  with  one  or  other  of  them ;  sometimes  for  our  civil 
government,  and  sometimes  for  church  order  and  government ; 
sometimes  for  infant  baptism,  and  oft  against  Antinomianism,  and 
the  contrary  extreme.  But  their  most  frequent  and  vehement  dis- 
putes were  for  liberty  of  conscience,  as  they  called  it ;  that  is,  that 
the  civil  magistrate  had  nothing  to  do  to  determine  any  thing  in  mat- 
ters of  religion,  by  constraint  or  restraint ;  but  every  man  might  not 
only  hold,  but  preach  and  do,  in  matters  of  religion,  what  he  pleased  ; 
that  the  civil  magistrate  hath  nothing  to  do  but  with  civil  thmgs,  to 
keep  the  peace,  protect  the  church's  liberties,  he. 

"  I  found  that  one  half,  almost,  of  the  religious  party  among  them, 
were  such  as  were  either  orthodox,  or  but  very  slightly  touched 
with  their  mistakes  ;  and  almost  another  half  were  honest  men,  that 
stepped  further  into  the  contending  way  than  they  could  well  get 
out  of  again,  but  who,  with  competent  help,  might  be  recovered. 
But  a  few  fiery,  self-conceited  men  among  them,  kindled  the  rest, 
and  made  all  the  noise  and  bustle,  and  carried  about  the  army  as 
they  pleased ;  for  the  gi'eatest  part  of  the  common  soldiers,  espe- 
cially of  the  foot,  were  ignorant  men,  of  little  religion ;  abundance 
of  them  such  as  had  been  taken  prisoners,  or  turned  out  of  garrisons 
under  the  king,  and  had  been  soldiers  in  his  army.  These  would 
do  any  thing  to  please  their  officers,  and  were  ready  instnmients 
for  the  seducers,  especially  in  their  great  .work,  which  was  to  cry 
down  the  covenant,  to  vilify  all  parish  ministers,  but  especially  the 
Scots  and  Presbyterians  ;  for  most  of  the  soldiers  that  I  spoke  with, 
never  took  the  covenant,  because  it  tied  them  to  defend  the  king's 
person,  and  to  extirpate  heresy  and  schism. 


72  LIFE    OV    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

"  Because  I  perceived  that  it  was  a  few  men  who  bore  the  bell, 
that  did  all  the  hurt  among  them,  I  acquainted  myself  with  those 
men,  and  would  be  oft  disputing  with  them,  in  the  hearing  of  the 
rest.  I  found  that  they  were  men  who  had  been  in  London, 
hatched  up  among  the  old  separatists,  and  had  made  it  all  the 
matter  of  their  study  and  religion  to  rail  against  ministers,  parish 
churches,  and  Presbyterians ;  and  who  had  little  other  knowledge 
or  discourse  of  any  thing  about  the  heart,  or  heaven.  They  were 
fierce  with  pride  and  self-conceitedness,  and  had  gotten  a  very 
great  conquest  over  their  charity,  both  to  the  Episcopalians  and 
Presbyterians ;  whereas  many  of  those  honest  soldiers,  who  were 
tainted  but  with  some  doubts  about  liberty  of  conscience,  or  Inde- 
pendency, were  men  who  would  discourse  of  the  points  of  sanc- 
tification,  and  Christian  experience,  very  savorily.  But  we  so  far 
prevailed  in  opening  the  folly  of  these  revilers,  and  self-conceited 
men,  as  that  some  of  them  became  the  laughing-stock  of  the  sol- 
diers before  I  left  them ;  and  when  they  preached,  for  great 
preachers  they  were,  their  weakness  exposed  them  to  contempt. 
A  great  part  of  the  mischief  they  did  among  the  soldiers,  was  by- 
pamphlets,  which  were  abundantly  dispersed,  such  as  Overton's 
Martin  Mar-Priest,  and  more  of  his;  and  some  of  J.  Lilbum's, 
who  was  one  of  them ;  and  divers  agamst  the  king,  and  against  the 
ministry,  and  for  liberty  of  conscience,  &ic.  And,  soldiers  being 
usually  dispersed  in  their  quarters,  they  had  such  books  to  read, 
when  they  had  none  to  contradict  them. 

"  But  there  was  yet  a  more  dangerous  party  than  these  among 
the  soldiers,  (only  in  Major  Bethel's  troop  of  our  regiment,)  who 
took  the  direct  Jesuitical  way.  They  first  most  vehemently  de- 
claimed against  the  doctrine  of  election,  and  for  the  power  of 
free-will,  and  all  other  points  which  are  controverted  between  the 
Jesuits  and  Dominicans,  the  Arminians  and  Calvinists.  Then 
they  as  fiercely  cried  down  our  present  translation  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  debased  their  authority,  though  they  did  not  deny  them 
to  be  divine.  They  cried  down  all  our  ministry.  Episcopal,  Pres- 
byterian, and  Independent,  and  all  our  churches.  They  vilified 
almost  all  our  ordinary  worship,  especially  singing  of  psalms,  and 
constant  family  worship ;  they  allowed  of  no  argument  fi-om  Scrip- 
ture, but  what  was  brought  in  its  express  words ;  they  were 
vehement  against  both  king,  and  all  government,  but  popular; 
and  against  magistrates  meddling  in  matters  of  religion,  All 
their  disputing  was  with  as  much  fierceness  as  if  they  had  been 
ready  to  draw  their  swords  upon  those  with  whom  they  disputed. 
They  trusted  more  to  policy,  scorn,  and  power,  than  to  argvmaent. 
They  would  bitterly  scorn  me  among  their  hearers,  to  prejudice 
them  before  they  entered  into  dispute.  They  avoided  me  as 
much  as  possible ;  but  when  they  did  come  to  it,  they  drowned 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  73 

all  reason  in  fierceness,  and  veheniency,  and  multitude  of  words. 
They  greatly  strove  for  places  of  command ;  and  when  any  place 
was  due  by  order  to  another,  that  was  not  of  their  mind,  they 
would  be  sure  to  work  him  out,  and  be  ready  to  mutiny,  if  they 
had  not  their  will.  I  thought  they  were  principled  by  the  Jesuits, 
and  acted  all  for  their  interest,  and  in  their  way ;  but  the  secret 
spring  was  out  of  sight.  These  were  the  same  men  that  were 
afterwards  called  Levelers,  who  rose  up  against  Cromwell,  and 
were  surprised  at  Burford,  having  then  deceived  and  drawn  to 
them  many  more.  Thompson,  the  general  of  the  levelers,  who 
was  slain  then,  was  no  greater  a  man  than  one  of  the  corporals 
of  Bethel's  troop ;  the  comet,  and  others,  being  much  worse 
than  he."* 

The  battle  of  Naseby  was  fought  June  14,  1645.  The  victo- 
rious army,  immediately  afterwards,  marched  into  the  west  of 
England,  to  encounter  the  royal  forces  there,  under  the  command 
of  Goring,  before  the  fugitives  should  have  time  to'  rally  in  that 
quarter,  and  strengthen  the  king's  last  hope.  In  this  expedition, 
Baxter  saw  first  the  battle,  or  rather  skinnish,  at  Langport,  in 
which  Goring's  forces  were  routed.  Next,  he  was  at  the  storming 
of  Bridgewater.  Thence,  he  went  with  the  conquerors  to  Bristol, 
which,  after  a  month's  siege,  was  ingloriously  surrendered.  After 
the  first  three  days  of  this  siege,  he  was  taken  sick  with  a  fever, 
and,  on  the  first  symptoms  of  the  disease,  retired,  and  with  much 
difficulty  reached  Bath,  where,  under  careful  medical  attendance, 
he  recovered,  from  the  brink  of  death,  sufficiently  to  reach  the 
army  again,  three  or  four  days  before  the  city  was  taken.  Then, 
after  two  weeks,  at  the  siege  of  Sherborne  Castle,  which  was  at 
last  taken  by  storm,  he  went  with  the  main  body  of  the  army, 
under  Fairfax,  still  farther  west,  in  pursuit  of  Goring.  He  staid 
three  weeks  at  the  siege  of  Exeter ;  and  then  Whalley's  regiment, 
with  some  others,  being  sent  back,  he  returned  with  them. 

The  service  on  which  Whalley  was  now  sent,  with  these  regi- 
ments of  horse,  was  to  watch  the  garrison  with  which  the  king  had 
shut  himself  up  in  Oxford,  till  the  army  should  come  to  besiege 
that  city,  which  was  the  most  considerable  place  then  in  the  hands 
of  the  royal  party.  About  six  weeks  in  winter,  they  were  quartered 
in  Buckinghamshire ;  and  then  they  were  sent  to  besiege  Banbury 
Castle,  about  twenty  miles  north  of  Oxford,  which,  after  two  months, 
v/as  taken.  After  this  enterprise,  the  same  regiments  were  sent, 
with  some  forces  of  the  neighboring  militia,  to  besiege  Worcester, 
while  the  main  army,  having  returned  from  the  west,  was  employed 
before  Oxford.     The  siege  of  Worcester  lasted  eleven  weeks.     In 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  50 — 54. 
VOL.  I.  10 


74  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

all  these  inarches  and  sieges,  Baxter  was  with  his  regiment,  pursu- 
ing with  characteristic  zeal  his  scheme  of  preaching  down,  and  ar- 
guing down,  that  radical  and  revolutionary  spirit,  from  which  he 
anticipated  the  most  disastrous  results. 

"  By  this  time,"  he  adds,  "  Colonel  Whalley,  though  Cromwell's 
kinsman,  and  commander  of  the  trusted  regiment,  grew  odious 
among  tlie  sectarian  commanders  at  the  head-quarters,  for  my  sake; 
and  was  called  a  Presbyterian,  though  neither  he  nor  I  were  of 
that  judgment  in  several  points.  When  he  had  brought  the  city 
to  a  necessity  of  present  yielding,  two  or  three  days  before  it  yield- 
ed, Colonel  Rainsborough  was  sent  from  Oxford,  which  had  yield- 
ed, with  some  regiments  of  foot,  to  command,  in  chief;  partly  that 
he  might  be  governor  there,  and  not  Whalley,  when  the  city  was 
surrendered.  So  when  it  was  yielded,  Rainsborough  was  govern- 
or, to  head  and  gratify  the  sectaries,  and  settle  city  and  county  in 
their  way  ;  but  the  committee  of  the  county  were  for  Whalley,  and 
lived  in  distaste  with  Rainsborough,  and  the  sectaries  prospered 
there  no  further  than  Worcester  city  itself,  a  place  which  deserved 
such  a  judgment ;  but  all  the  country  was  free  fi'om  their  infection. 

"All  this  while,  as  I  had  friendly  converse  whh  the  sober  part, 
so  I  was  still  employed  with  the  rest,  as  before,  in  preaching,  con- 
ference, and  disputing  against  their  confounding  errors ;  and  in  all 
places  where  we  went,  the  sectarian  soldiers  much  infected  the 
country,  by  their  pamphlets  and  converse.  The  people,  admiring 
the  conquering  army,  were  ready  to  receive  whatsoever  they  com- 
mended to  them ;  and  it  was  the  way  of  the  faction  to  speak  what 
they  spake,  as  the  sense  of  the  army,  and  to  make  the  people 
believe  that  whatever  opinion  they  vented,  which  one  in  forty  of 
the  army  owned  not,  was  the  army's  opinion.  When  we  quarter- 
ed at  Agmondesham,  in  Buckinghamshire,  some  sectaries  of  Ches- 
ham  had  set  up  a  public  meeting  as  for  conference,  to  propagate 
their  opinions  through  all  the  country  ;  and  this  in  the  church,  by 
the  encouragement  of  an  ignorant  sectarian  lecturer,  one  Bramble, 
whom  they  had  got  in,  while  Dr.  .Crook,  the  pastor,  and  Mr.  Rich- 
ardson, his  curate,  durst  not  contradict  them.  When  this  public 
talking-day  came,  Bethel's  troopers,  (then  Capt.  Pitchford's,)  with 
other  sectarian  soldiers,  must  be  there  to  confirm  the  Chesham 
men,  and  make  men  believe  that  the  army  was  for  them.  I  thought 
it  my  duty  to  be  there  also,  and  took  divers  sober  officers  with  me, 
to  let  them  see  that  more  of  the  anny  were  against  them  than  for 
them.  I  took  the  reading  pew,  and  Pitchford's  cornet  and  troopers 
took  the  gallery.  And  there  I  found  a  crowded  congregation  of 
poor,  well-meaning  people,  who  came  in  the  simplicity  of  their 
hearts  to  be  deceived.  Then  did  the  leader  of  the  Chesham  men 
begin,  and  afterwards  Pitchford's  soldiers  set  in,  and  I  alone  dis- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER 


puted  against  them  from  morning  until  almost  night ;  for  I  knew 
their  trick,  that  if  1  had  but  gone  out  first,  they  would  have  prated 
what  boasting  words  they  listed  when  I  was  gone,  and  made  the 
people  believe  that  they  had  baffled  me,  or  got  the  best ;  therefore 
I  stayed  it  out  till  they  first  rose  and  went  away."  "  Some  of  the 
sober  people  of  Agmondesham  gave  me  abundance  of  thanks  for 
that  day's  work,  which  they  said  would  never  be  there  forgotten  ; 
I  heard  also  that  the  sectaries  were  so  discouraged  that  they  never 
met  there  any  more." 

"  The  great  impediments  to  the  success  of  my  endeavors,  I  found, 
were  only  two;  the  discountenance  of  Cromwell  and  the  chief  offi- 
cers of  his  mind,  which  kept  me  a  stranger  from  their  meetings  and 
councils  ;  and  my  incapacity  of  speaking  to  many,  as  soldiers'  quar- 
ters are  scattered  far  from  one  another,  and  I  could  be  but  in  one 
place  at  once.  So  that  one  troop  at  a  time,  ordinarily,  and  some 
few  more  extraordinarily,  was  all  thati  could  speak  to.  The  most 
of  the  service  I  did  beyond  Whalley's  regiment  was,  by  the  help  of 
Captain  Lawrence,  with  some  of  the  general's  regiment,  and  some- 
times I  had  converse  with  Major  Harrison  and  a  few  others ;  but  I 
found  that  if  the  army  had  only  had  ministers  enough,  who  would 
have  done  but  such  a  little  as  I  did,  all  their  plot  must  have  been 
broken,  and  king,  and  parliament,  and  religion,  might  have  been 
preserved.  Therefore  I  sent  abroad  to  get  some  more  ministers 
among  them,  but  I  could  get  none.  Saltmarsh  and  Dell  were  the 
two  great  preachers  at  the  head-quarters  ;  but  honest  and  judicious 
Mr.  Edward  Bowles  kept  still  with  the  general.  At  last  I  got  Mr. 
Cook,  of  Roxhall,  to  come  to  assist  me  ;  and  the  soberer  part  of 
the  officers  and  soldiers  of  Whalley's  regiment  were  willing  to  pay 
him  out  of  their  own  pay.  A  month  or  two  he  staid  and  assisted 
me  ;  but  was  quickly  weary,  and  left  them  again.  He  was  a  very 
worthy,  humble,  laborious  man,  unwearied  in  preaching,  but  weary 
when  he  had  not  an  opportunity  to  preach,  and  weary  of  the  spirits 
he  had  to  deal  with. 

"  All  this  while,  though  I  came  not  near  Cromwell,  his  designs 
were  visible,  and  I  saw  him  continually  acting  his  part.  The  lord 
general  suffered  him  to  govern  and  to  do  all,  and  to  choose  almost 
all  the  officers  of  the  army.  He  first  made  Ireton  conmiissary-gen- 
eral ;  and  when  any  troop  or  company  was  to  be  disposed  of,  or 
any  considerable  officer's  place  was  void,  he  was  sure  to  put  a  sec- 
tary in  the  place  ;  and  when  the  brunt  of  the  war  was  over,  he 
looked  not  so  much  at  their  valor  as  their  opinions  ;  so  that,  by  de- 
grees, he  had  headed  the  greatest  part  of  the  army  with  Anabap- 
tists, Antinomians,  Seekers,  or  Separatists  at  best.  All  these  he 
tied  together  by  the  point  of  liberty  of  conscience,  which  was  the 
common  interest  in  which  they  did  unite.     Yet  all  the  sober  party 


76  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

were  carried  on  by  his  profession,  that  he  only  promoted  the  uni- 
versal interest  of  the  godly,  without  any  distinction  or  partiality  at 
all  ;  but  still,  when  a  place  fell  void,  it  was  twenty  to  one  a  secta- 
ry had  it;  and  if  a  godly  man,  of  another  mind  or  temper,  had  a 
mind  to  leave  the  army,  he  would,  secretly,  or  openly,  further  it. 
Yet  he  did  not  openly  profess  what  opinion  he  was  of  himself."* 

The  fact  which  Baxter  here  testifies,  namely,  that,  all  this  while, 
he  came  not  near  Cromwell,  is  a  fact  which  ought  to  qualify  his 
strictures  on  Cromwell's  proceedings  and  intentions.  Baxter  fear- 
ed, as  well  he  might,  the  progress  of  Arminianism,  Antinomianism 
and  fanaticism  in  the  army ;  and  he  used,  with  laudable  diligence, 
the  weapons  of  his  warfare  to  check  those  evils.  Had  he  been  inti-  , 
mate  with  the  counsels  of  the  sectarian  commanders  at  head-quar- 
ters, he  might  have  seen  other  evils  at  work  in  other  quarters,  and 
threatening  to  become,  in  their  results,  not  less  disastrous  to  the 
cause  of  truth  and  holiness.  Cromwell  saw,  what  the  good  chap- 
lain of  Whalley's  regiment  seems  never  to  have  suspected,  that  the 
Presbyterian  party,  in  the  assembly  and  in  parliament,  were  deter- 
mined to  set  up  their  Scotch  hierarchy  as  the  kingdom  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and,  under  the  claim  of  a  divine  right,  to  put  again  upon  the 
necks  of  Independents,  Baptists,  and  all  other  sectaries,  that  yoke 
of  uniformity,  which  neither  they  nor  their  fathers  had  been  able 
to  bear.  Seeing  this,  he  must  have  felt  himself  bound  to  use  all 
proper  means  for  the  defeat  of  such  a  design  ;  and  it  is  not  difficult 
to  suppose  that  he  may  have  acted  as  conscientiously  in  his  meas- 
ures for  the  defence  of  the  great  principles  on  which  the  revolu- 
tion rested,  as  Baxter  acted  in  attempting  to  argue  down  the  vaga- 
ries of  Antinomian  fanatics. 

After  the  surrender  of  Worcester,  the  war  with  the  king  being 
apparently  at  an  end,  Baxter  visited  his  old  flock  at  Kidderminster, 
and  was  earnestly  importuned  to  resume  his  labors  there.  On  this 
application,  he  went  to  Coventry,  and  sought  the  advice  of  the 
ministers  there,  by  whose  counsel  he  had  first  gone  into  the  army. 
In  asking  their  advice,  he  told  them  not  only  all  his  fears,  but  that 
his  own  judgment  was  clear  for  staying  in  the  aiTny  till  the  crisis 
which  he  expected  should  arrive.  Their  opinion  accorded  with 
his ;  and  he  determined  on  a  still  longer  absence  from  the  peace- 
ful labors  of  his  pastoral  charge. 

About  this  time,  he  retired  from  his  quarters  for  a  while,  on  ac- 
count of  his  health.  He  visited  London  for  medical  assistance, 
and  spent  some  time  at  Tunbridge"  wells,  and  returned  to  his  regi- 
ment in  Worcestershire,  prepared  to  go  on  with  his  work.  But 
soon  the  fatigue  and  exposure  of  moving  from  place  to  place,  as  in 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  55,  57. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  77 

that  military  life  he  was  under  the  necessity  of  doing,  during  a  cold 
and  snowy  season,  had  almost  proved  fatal  to  him.  He  was  at- 
tacked with  a  violent  bleeding  at  the  nose,  which  continued  till 
his  strength  and  almost  his  life  was  exhausted. 

"  And  thus,"  he  says,  "  God  unavoidably  prevented  all  the 
effect  of  my  purposes  in  my  last  and  chiefest  opposition  of  the 
army ;  and  took  me  off  at  the  very  time  when  my  attempt  should 
have  begun.  My  purpose  v/as  to  have  done  my  best,  first,  to  take 
off  that  regiment  which  I  was  with ;  and  then,  with  Capt.  Law- 
rence, to  have  tried  upon  the  generals,  in  which  too  was  Crom- 
well's chief  confidence ;  and  then  to  have  joined  with  others  of 
the  same  mind ;  for  the  other  regiments  were  much  less  corrupted. 
But  the  determination  of  God  a"gainst  it  was  most  observable  ;  for 
the  very  time  that  I  was  bleeding,  the  council  of  war  sat  at  Not- 
tingham, where,  as  I  have  credibly  heard,  they  fii'st  began  to  open 
their  purposes,  and  act  their  part ;  and,  presently  after,  they  enter- 
ed into  their  engagement  at  Triploe  Heath.  And  as  I  perceived 
it  was  the  will  of  God  to  permit  them  to  go  on,  so  I  aftei-w^ards 
found  that  this  great  affliction  was  a  mercy  to  myself;  for  they 
were  so  strong,  and  active,  that  I  had  been  likely  to  have  had 
small  success  in  the  attempt,  and  to  have  lost  my  life  among  them 
in  their  fury.     And  thus  I  was  finally  separated  from  the  army. 

"  When  I  had  staid  at  Melbourn,  in  my  chamber,  .three  weeks, 
being  among  strangers,  and  not  knowing  how  to  get  home,  I  went 
to  Mr.  Nowell's  house,  at  Kirby-Mallory,  in  Leicestershire,  where, 
with  great  kindness,  I  was  entertained  three  weeks.  By  that  time, 
the  tidings  of  my  weakness  came  to  the  Lady  Rous,  in  Worces- 
tershire, who  sent  her  servant  to  seek  me  out ;  and  when  he  re- 
turned, and  told  her  I  was  afar  off,  and  he  could  not  find  me,  she 
sent  him  again  to  find  me,  and  bring  me  thither,  if  I  were  able  to 
travel.  So,  in  great  weakness,  thither  I  made  shift  to  get,  where 
I  was  entertained  with  the  greatest  care  and  tenderness,  while  I 
continued  the  use  of  means  for  my  recovery ;  and  when  I  had 
been  there  a  quarter  of  a  year,  I  returned  to  Kidderminster."* 

It  was  during  this  long  sickness,  and  wdiile  he  was  anticipating  a 
speedy  departure,  that  he  employed  himself  in  writing  that  work 
on  the  "  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest,"  which  has  made  his  name  dear 
to  the  fi-iends  of  serious  and  praictical  religion  through  the  world. 
This  was  the  first  written  of  all  his  published  compositions.  A 
much  smaller  work,  entitled  "Aphorisms  of  Justification,"  design- 
ed to  refute  some  of  the  Antinomian  errors  which  he  had  been 
combating  in  the  army,  was  commenced  while  the  "  Saint's  Rest " 
was  still  unfinished,  and  was  published  in  1649,  two  years  after  his 

"  Narrative,  Part  1.  pp.  58,  59. 


% 


78  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

return  to  Kidderminster.  The  "Saint's  Rest"  was  published  m 
1650. 

Of  the  circumstances  in  which  this  work  was  written,  the  au- 
thor says,  "  While  I  was  in  health,  I  had  not  the  least  thought  of 
writing  books,  or  of  serving  God  in  any  more  public  way  than 
preaching ;  but  when  1  was  weakened  with  great  bleeding,  and  left 
solitary  in  my  chamber  at  Sir  John  Cook's  m  Derbyshii'e,  without 
any  acquaintance  but  my  servant  about  me,  and  was  sentenced  to 
death  by  the  physicians,  I  began  to  contemplate  more  seriously  on 
the  everlasting  rest,  which  I  apprehended  myself  to  be  just  on  the 
borders  of.  That  my  thoughts  might  not  too  much  scatter  in  my 
meditation,  I  began  to  write  something  on  that  subject,  intending 
but  the  quantity  of  a  sermon  or  two ;  but  being  continued  long  in 
weakness,  where  I  had  no  books  and  no  better  employment,  I  fol- 
lowed it  on,  till  it  was  enlarged  to  the  bulk  in  which  it  is  pub- 
lished. The  first  three  weeks  I  spent  in  it  was  at  Mr.  Nowel's 
house,  at  Kirkby  Mallory,  in  Leicestershire ;  a  quarter  of  a  year 
more,  at  the  seasons  which  so  great  weakness  would  allow,  I  be- 
stowed on  it  at  Sir  Thomas  Rous's  house,  at  Rous-Lench  in  Wor- 
cestershire ;  and  I  finished  it  shortly  after  at  Kiddemiinster.  The 
first  and  last  parts  were  first  done,  being  all  that  I  intended  for  my 
ovm  use ;  and  the  second  and  third  parts  came  afterwards  in, 
besides  my  first  intention." 

"  The  marginal  citations  I  put  in,  after  I  came  home  to  my 
books,  but  almost  all  the  book  itself  was  written  when  I  had  no 
book  but  a  Bible  and  a  Concordance  ;  and  I  found  that  the  tran- 
script of  the  heart  hath  the  greatest  force  on  the  hearts  of  others. 
For  the  good  that  I  have  heard  that  multitudes  have  received  by 
that  writing,  and  the  benefit  which  I  have  again  received  by  their 
prayers,  I  here  humbly  return  my  thanks  to  him  that  compelled 
me  to  write  it."* 

There  are  few  testimonies  to  the  great  intellectual  vigor,  and  the 
extraordinary  industry  of  Baxter,  more  surprising  than  the  fact 
that  "  The  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest,"  which,  at  its  first  publication, 
was  a  quarto  volume  of  eight  hundred  pages,  was  wTitten  in  six 
months,  while  the  author  stood  languishing  and  fainting  between 
life  and  death. 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  108. 


PART   THIRD. 

FROM    HIS    RETURN    TO    KIDDERMINSTER   TO   THE    FEAR    1660. 


The  personal  history  of  Baxter  is  so  closely  connected  with 
the  history  of  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  that  it  seems  necessary, 
in  this  place,  briefly  to  review  the  progress  of  public  events  from 
the  siege  of  Oxford,  in  the  beginning  of  the  year  1646,  to  the 
death  of  Cromwell,  in  September,  1658. 

After  the  battles  and  sieges  by  which  all  the  south-western  parts 
of  England  had  been  reduced  under  the  power  of  the  parliament, 
the  victorious  army,  commanded  by  Fairfax  and  Cromwell,  return- 
ed as  soon  as  the  spring  opened,  to  put  an  end  to  the  war  by  be- 
sieging the  king  in  his  head-quarters  at  Oxford.  On  receiving  this 
intelligence,  and  learning  that  the  enemy  was  just  at  hand,  Charles, 
with  only  two  attendants,  left  the  city  by  night,  in  disguise,  and, 
fleeing  to  the  north,  threw  himself  into  the  hands  of  the  Scottish 
army,  then  employed  in  the  siege  of  Newark.  He  was  aware 
that  the  Scots,  in  their  zeal  for  covenant  uniformity,  had  begun  to 
be  disgusted  with  the  dilatory  proceedings  of  the  English  parlia- 
ment respecting  the  establishment  of  Presbyterianism  as  the  only 
and  divinely-authorized  form  of  church  government.  He  knew 
that  they  looked  on  the  progress  of  Independency  with  equal 
alarm  and  abhorrence ;  and  his  hope  was  that,  by  throwing  him- 
self upon  them  whose  claims  in  relation  to  their  own  country  he 
had  fully  satisfied,  he  might  be  able  to  break  up  their  alliance  with 
England.  The  Scottish  generals,  however,  refused  to  enter  into 
any  separate  treaty  with  him ;  and  while  they  paid  him  scrupu- 
lously all  the  exterior  respect  due  to  majesty,  he  was  in  fact  a 
prisoner  rather  than  a  sovereign.  At  their  suggestion,  which,  m 
his  circumstances,  differed  little  from  a  command,  he  gave  orders 
to  the  commanders  at  Oxford,  and  in  all  his  other  garrisons,  to  sur- 
render to  the  parliament;  and  thus  the  war  was  ended,  the  last  of 
the  royal  garrisons  being  surrendered,  a  little  less  than  four  years 
from  the  day  on  which  the  king  set  up  his  standard  at  Notting- 
ham. 

Charles  continued  with  the  Scots  eight  months.     The  parlia- 
ment and  the  Scottish  commissioners  offered  him  terms  of  recon- 


80  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

ciliation,  better  than  conquerors  ordinarily  impose  upon  the  van- 
quished. His  friends  importunately  urged  him  to  accept  those 
terms  as  the  best  provision  which  he  could  possibly  make  for  him- 
self and  for  his  pai'tisans.  But  he  was  now  bfatuated  with  the 
visionary  expectation  of  dividing  his  enemies.  He  addressed  him- 
self to  the  Scots,  representing  to  them  how  probable  it  was  that 
the  Independents  would  secure  a  toleration  in  spite  of  the  provis- 
ions of  the  covenant,  and  proposing  that,  if  Episcopacy  might  be 
continued  in  four  of  the  dioceses  of  England,  the  Presbyterian 
discipline  should  be  established  in  all  the  other  parts  of  the  king- 
dom, with  the  strictest  enactments  that  could  be  devised  against 
both  Papists  and  sectarians.  At  the  same  time,  he  entered  into  a 
more  private  negotiation  with  the  leaders  of  the  army,  who  pro- 
posed to  set  him  on  his  throne  again,  without  his  taking  the  cove- 
nant or  renouncing  the  liturgy,  if  he  would  but  secure,  with  the 
civil  liberties  of  the  people,  a  general  toleration  in  religion.  Had 
he,  in  this  emergency,  enlisted  frankly  on  ehher  side,  he  might 
have  retrieved  something  of  his  fallen  fortunes.  But  he  had  too 
much  imbecility  of  character  to  decide  in  such  circumstances; 
and  while  he  lingered,  hoping  to  set  one  party  against  the  other^ 
and  to  secure  from  their  mutual  .collision  the  re-establishment  of 
his  entire  authority,  he  suffered  the  opportunity  to  go  by,  without 
accepting  the  proposals  of  either.  The  Scots,  after  some  nego- 
tiation with  the  English  parliament,  finding  that  they  could  make 
no  agreement  with  the  king,  and  that  to  retain  his  person  in  their 
hands  would  be  attended  with  much  loss  and  hazai'd,  and  with  no 
probable  advantage,  surrendered  him  to  the  commissioners  appoint- 
ed by  parliament,  by  whom  he  was  conducted  to  Holmby  House, 
in  Northamptonshire,  the  place  appointed  for  his  residence. 

Meanwhile,  as  the  disposition  of  the  parliament  towards  a  strict 
Presbyterian  establishment,  excluding  all  toleration,  became  more 
manifest,  the  dissatisfaction  of  the  army  increased ;  and  they  were 
gradually  brought  to  the  fixed  resolution,  that  they  would  be  heard 
on  that  point,  and  that  their  opinions  should  be  regarded  in  all  the 
measures  which  concerned  their  separate  interests,  or  that  common 
religious  hberty  for  which  they  had  been  fighting.  To  this  end 
they  elected  a  council  of  officers,  and  a  body  of  adjutators,  or  as- 
sistants, consisting  of  three  or  four  fi:om  each  regiment,  represent- 
ing the  common  soldiers.  These  two  councils  held  their  sepa- 
rate sessions,  like  the  two  houses  of  parliament,  and  considered 
fi-eely  all  the  proposals  and  orders  of  the  parliament  m  relation  to 
the  settlement  of  the  kingdom,  or  the  disposal  of  the  army.  By 
this  organization,  the  army  became  a  military  republic,  and  ceased 
to  be  governed  by  the  civil  authority.  Indeed,  tlie  nation  was  in 
a  state  in  which  hardly  any  rightful  authority  could  be  said  to 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  81 

exist.  The  king  had  forfeited  his  right  to  govern.  The  parlia- 
ment, having  gotten  the  power  into  their  hands,  betrayed  a  dispo- 
sition to  keep  it ;  and,  there  being  no  law  to  secure  the  dissolution 
of  the  existing  parliament  and  the  election  of  another,  the  members, 
in  proportion  as  their  body  approximated  to  the  character  of  a  per- 
petual senate,  became,  in  fact  and  in  public  estimation,  the  usurp- 
ing sovereigns  rather  than  the  representatives  and  organs  of  the 
people.  It  was  not  strange,  then,  that  the  army  should  feel  them- 
selves justified  in  refusing  to  be  disbanded,  or  to  be  otherwise 
disposed  of,  till  justice  should  be  done  to  them  as  public  creditors, 
and  the  peace  and  liberty  of  the  nation  should  be  secured  on  some 
basis  satisfactory  to  their  judgment.  Having  taken  such  a  resolu- 
tion, they  communicated  it,  by  a  formal  delegation,  to  parliament. 

The  Presbyterian  party,  seeing  whereunto  this  might  grow,  has- 
tened their  treaty  with  the  king,  and  seemed  to  be  on  the  point  of 
concluding  it,  as  if  they  were  more  willing  to  make  any  sacrifice 
than  to  consent  to  that  religious  freedom  which  the  army  demand- 
ed. The  treaty  was  suddenly  broken  off  by  an  unexpected  move- 
ment. A  cornet,  acting  probably  under  the  direction  of  the  adju- 
tators,  came  to  Holmby,  at  the  head  of  fifty  horse,  and  removed 
the  king  from  the  midst  of  his  guards  and  keepers  to  the  quarters 
of  the  army  at  Newmarket.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  king 
felt  any  decided  aversion  to  this  removal.  He  was  treated  with 
much  more  consideration  by  the  officers  of  the  army,  than  he  had 
been  by  the  parliamentary  commissioners ;  and  he  had  more  per- 
sonal liberty  at  Newmarket,  than  he  had  known  before  from  the 
time  of  his  surrendering  himself  to  the  Scots. 

The  news  of  this  bold  measure  threw  the  parliament  and  the 
city  into  great  confusion.  It  was  expected  that  the  army  would 
be  instantly  before  the  city ;  and  hasty  preparations  were  made 
for  a  defense.  Commissioners  were  sent  to  the  general  to  forbid 
the  approach  of  the  army.  Fairfax  replied  that  they  would  make 
no  further  advance  without  giving  due  notice ;  and  he  assured  the 
houses  that  there  was  no  design  to  overthrow  the  Presbyterian 
government,  or  to  set  up  the  Independent,  and  that  the  army 
claimed  nothing  more  than  the  privilege  of  dissenting  from  the 
established  religion.  After  some  negotiation,  the  Presbyterians  in 
the  parliament  and  the  city  began  to  recover  courage  ;  and  the 
army  began  to  reply  in  bolder  language.  The  citizens  grew 
violent,  and,  by  tumultuous  petitions,  endeavored  to  bring  the  par- 
liament to  stronger  measures.  But  the  speakers  of  the  two  houses, 
and  with  them  a  very  considerable  portion  of  the  members,  not  a 
few  of  whom  were  zealous  Presbyterians,  fearing  these  tumults, 
withdrew  from  the  city,  and  claimed  the  protection  of  the  army 
that  the  parliament  might  be  free.     The  army  was  immediately 

VOL.    1.  II 


82  LIFE    OF    KICHARD    BAXTER. 

put  in  motion,  afid,  on  its  approach,  the  city  submitted  without  a 
defense.  A  few  of  the  most  active  Presbyterian  leaders  were 
under  the  necessity  of  abandoning  their  places  in  the  house  of 
commons  ;  and  from  this  time,  the  proceedings  of  parliament  were 
generally  conformed  to  the  wishes  of  the  army, 

Tlie  king  was  all  this  while  with  the  army ;  and  when  the  city 
and  parliament  had  submitted,  he  was  allowed  to  reside  at  his  palace 
of  Hampton  Court,  where  he  appeared  in  great  state,  and  was  at- 
tended by  throngs  of  people  from  the  city  and  the  country.  Crom- 
well and  Ireton  conferred  with  him  privately  about  restoring  him 
to  the  throne.  They  made  him  better  offers  than  those  of  the 
parliament ;  and  there  is  no  sufficient  reason  to  doubt  the  sincerity 
of  their  proposals.  But  he  was  still  infatuated  with  the  notion  that 
neither  party  could  exist  without  him,  and  that  each  would  willingly 
outbid  the  other  to  secure  his  name  and  influence.  Thus  he  car- 
ried on  a  deceitful  negotiation  with  both  parties,  till  his  duplicity 
was  discovered  by  a  letter  to  his  wife,  which  Cromwell  intercepted. 
Upon  this  discovery,  Cromwell  informed  the  king's  most  intimate 
attendant,  that  he  would  have  no  more  to  do  with  a  man  so  unwor- 
thy of  his  confidence,  and  would  no  longer  be  responsible,  as  he  had 
been,  for  his  personal  safety.  The  unhappy  monarch,  without 
seeming  to  have  formed  any  definite  plan  of  escape,  fled  from 
Hampton  Court,  and,  a  few  hours  afterwards,  found  himself,  he 
hardly  knew  how,  a  prisoner  in  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

Here  he  was  soon  visited  by  commissioners  from  parliament, 
offering  him  certain  proposals,  to  which  his  assent  was  required  as 
preliminary  to  any  further  negotiation.  It  was  very  distinctly  inti- 
mated that,  if  he  rejected  these  propositions,  they  would  proceed  to 
settle  the  nation  without  him.  The  preliminaries  now  proposed 
were  not  materially  different  from  the  temis  which  he  had  formerly 
rejected.  He  now  declined  them  once  more,  having  already  en- 
tered on  a  secret  treaty  with  the  Scottish  commissioners,  which  was 
signed  three  days  afterwards.  In  this  treaty,  the  king,  on  the  one 
hand,  promised  that  the  covenant  should  be  confimied  by  act  of 
parliament ;  that  the  Presbyterian  discipline  should  be  established 
in  England  for  three  years,  and  afterwards  such  a  system  as  should 
be  agreed  on  in  the  mean  time,  the  king  and  his  household  having 
the  privilege  of  using  those  forms  of  worship  to  which  they  had 
been  accustomed ;  and  that  an  effectual  course  should  be  taken  to 
suppress  all  heresy  and  schism.  The  Scots,  on  the  other  hand,  who 
had  long  been  dissatisfied  with  their  English  friends,  as  wanting  in 
zeal  for  the  covenant,  and  who  had  become  finally  disgusted  on 
witnessing  the  predominant  influence  of  tlie  military  sectarians, 
])romi3ed  to  raise  an  army  which  should  deliver  the  king  from  his 
imprisonment  and  restore  him  to  his  authority.  This  treaty  was 
signed  near  the  close  of  the  vcar  1617. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  83 

Eaily  ill  the  following  year,  the  nation  was  again  involved  in 
war.  The  Scots,  in  compliance  with  their  new  treaty,  invaded 
England  under  the  banner  of  the  covenant ;  the  king's  old  friends 
rising  simultaneously,  wherever  they  were  numerous  enough  to 
show  themselves.  The  amiy,  which  had  overawed  the  parliament 
by  being  quartered  about  London,  was  now  drawn  off  to  meet  the 
common  enemy ;  and  the  Presbyterian  party  immediately  regained 
its  old  ascendency  in  the  city.  A  new  treaty  was  set  on  foot  with 
the  king,  and,  though  long  delayed  by  the  efforts  of  the  minority 
in  parliament,  was  at  last  on  the  point  of  being  concluded  and  car- 
ried into  execution;  when  the  anny,  having  once  more  crushed  all 
armed  opposition,  suddenly  marched  to  London,  and  all  was  revers- 
ed. Military  usurpation  became  the  order  of  the  day.  A  gi-eat 
number  of  Presbyterians  were  forcibly  expelled  from  the  house  of 
commons.  The  lords,  refusing  to  concur  with  the  acts  of  the  low- 
er house,  thus  mutilated,  were  no  longer  acknowledged  as  a  branch  of 
the  legislature.  A  high  court  of  justice  was  erected  by  the  com- 
mons for  the  trial  of  "  Charles  Stuart,  king  of  England  ;"  and  by  the 
sentence  of  that  court,  after  a  public  trial,  the  king  was  beheaded 
on  the  thirtieth  of  January,  1649. 

The  Rump,  for  that  was  the  name  which  the  people  in  derision 
applied  to  the  remnant  of  the  parliament,  consisted  chiefly  of  zeal- 
ous republicans,  and  was  therefore  resolved  on  the  establishment 
of  a  commonwealth  which  might  surpass  in  renown  the  classic  re- 
publics of  antiquity.  But,  as  the  republicans  were  in  fact  only  a 
minority  in  the  nation,  it  was  felt  that  the  people  could  not  be 
trusted  with  this  favorite  project.  Therefore  the  existing  members 
of  parliament  must  still  retain  the  power  in  their  own  hands  ;  though 
they  made  many  fair  promises  that,  as  soon  as  peace  and  order 
should  be  established,  they  would  resign  their  power,  and  give  the 
people  an  opportunity  to  elect  new  rulers.  Meanwhile,  for  the  se- 
curity of  the  infant  commonwealth,  all  the  subjects  were  called  on 
to  profess  allegiance  to  its  government.  This  promise  was  styled 
the  "  engagement,"  and  was  thus  expressed,  "  I  do  promise  to  be 
true  and  faithful  to  the  commonwealth,  as  it  is  now  established, 
without  a  king  or  house  of  lords." 

In  Scotland,  Charles  IL  was  proclaimed  king,  and  was  invited  to 
come  over  from  Holland,  where  he  had  found  refuge,  and  to  receive 
his  crown,  on  condition  of  his  taking  the  covenant,  and  submitting  to 
many  additional  restrictions  and  engagements.  The  Rump,  see- 
ing no  immediate  danger  likely  to  arise  from  that  quarter,  left  the 
Scots  to  settle  their  own  government  in  their  own  way.  Cromwell 
was  sent  to  command  in  Ireland,  where,  after  a  bloody  war  of  nine 
months,  he  established,  beyond  resistance  or  dispute,  the  authori- 
ty of  the  commonwealth. 


84  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

In  the  meantime,  Charles  II.,  despairing  of  any  other  relief,  had 
accepted  the  proposals  of  the  Scots,  and  had  come  over  into  that 
kingdom.  With  a  hypocrisy  which  has  few  parallels,  even  in  the 
history  of  his  own  faithless  family,  he  solemnly  swore  to  the  cove- 
nant. He  published  a  formal  declaration,  setting  forth  his  humiha- 
tion  and  grief  for  the  wickedness  of  his  father  and  the  idolatry  of  his 
mother,  as  well  as  for  his  own  sins  ;  professing  his  detestation  of  all 
Popery,  superstition,  prelacy,  heresy,  schism,  and  profaneness  ;  and 
promising  that  he  would  never  favor  those  who  followed  his  interests, 
in  preference  to  the  interests  of  the  gospel  ar^d  of  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.  Those  who  ruled  in  England  saw  that  this  attempted  rec- 
onciliation between  Charles  and  the  Scots,  if  attended  with  any 
measure  of  success,  must  imply  some  invasion  of  their  peace  and 
power  ;  and  they  resolved  to  be  beforehand  with  the  young  king 
and  his  new  subjects.  War  was  determined  on  ;  and,  Fairfax  hav- 
ing resigned  his  command,  out  of  his  Presbyterian  regard  to  the 
covenant,  Cromwell  was  made  captain-general  of  all  the  forces. 
With  characteristic  promptness,  he  invaded  Scotland,  and  soon  re- 
duced the  king  to  desperate  circumstances.  By  a  bold  move- 
ment suited  to  such  circumstances,  Charles,  with  the  main  body  of 
the  Scottish  army,  marched  into  England,  hoping  that  his  friends 
there,  and  the  many  others  who  were  dissatisfied  with  the  existing 
government,  would  instantly  rally  around  him.  In  this  he  was  dis- 
appointed ;  Cromwell,  having  left  a  detachment  to  complete  the 
subjugation  of  Scotland,  followed  hard  after  him,  and  at  Worcester 
his  army  was  annihilated,  and  he  himself,  putting  on  the  disguise  of 
a  servant,  with  great  difficulty  escaped  out  of  the  kingdom.  This 
battle,  which  Cromwell  called  his  "  crowning  mercy,"  was  fought 
on  the  third  of  September,  1651. 

Mutual  dissatisfaction  still  existed  between  the  parliament  and 
the  army.  Peace  was  now  established  ;  the  three  kingdoms  were 
consolidated  into  one  commonwealth  ;  and  the  parliament  were 
loudly  reminded  of  the  promises  which  they  had  made  to  abdicate 
their  power.  Still  they  were  unwilling  to  trust  the  people,  and 
they  resolved  on  continuing  their  own  authority.  At  this  crisis, 
Cromwell,  having  surrounded  the  house  with  soldiers,  rose  up  in 
his  place,  and,  declaring  that  God  had  called  him  to  dissolve  that 
assembly,  told  them  they  were  no  longer  a  parhament,  and  bid  them 
begone.  Thus  ended  the  Long  Parliament,  in  1653,  and  the  only 
government  of  the  nation  was  in  the  hands  of  the  general  and  his 
council  of  officers. 

By  these  men,  after  one  short  experiment  of  a  parliament  cho- 
sen by  themselves,  a  new  constitution  was  imposed  on  the  nation. 
Cromwell  was  invested  with  the  power  of  a  limited  monarch,  under 
the  title  of  Lord  Protector  of  the  Commonwealth  ;  and  provision 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  85 

was  made  for  triennial  parliaments,  to  be  elected  by  the  people. 
Under  this  government,  though  royalists  and  republicans,  prelatists 
and  Presbyterians,  Papists  and  fanatics  united  in  hating  it,  the  peo- 
ple enjoyed  order  and  prosperity  till  the  death  of  the  Protector. 

We  now  return  to  Baxter's  personal  history,  to  the  elucidation  of 
which  this  survey  of  public  events  seemed  necessary. 

"  I  have  related  how,  after  my  bleeding  a  gallon  of  blood,  by  the- 
nose,  that  I  was  left  weak  at  Sir  Thomas  Rouse's  house,  at  Rous 
Lench,  where  I  was  taken  up  with  daily  medicines  to  prevent  a 
dropsy  ;  and,  being  conscious  that  my  time  had  not  been  improved 
to  the  service  of  God  as  I  desired  it  had  been,  I  put  up  many  an 
earnest  prayer,  that  God  would  restore  me,  and  use  me  more  suc- 
cessfully in  his  work.  Blessed  be  that  mercy,  which  heard  my 
groans  in  the  day  of  my  distress ;  and  gratified  my  desires,  and 
wrought  my  deliverance,  when  men  and  means  failed,  and  gave 
me  opportunity  to  celebrate  his  praise. 

"  Whilst  I  there  continued,  weak  and  unable  to  preach,  the 
people  of  Kidderminster  had  again  renewed  their  articles  against 
their  old  vicar  and  his  curate.  Upon  trial  of  the  cause,  the  com- 
mittee sequestered  the  place,  but  put  no  one  into  it ;  but  put  the 
profits  in  the  hands  of  divers  of  the  inhabitants,  to  pay  a  preacher 
till  it  were  disposed  of.  They  sent  to  me,  and  desired  me  to  take 
it,  in  case  I  were  again  enabled  to  preach  ;  which  1  flatly  refused, 
and  told  them  I  would  take  only  the  lecture,  which,  by  his  own  con- 
sent and  bond,  I  held  before.  Hereupon  they  sought  to  Mr.  Brum- 
skill  and  others  to  accept  the  place,  but  could  not  meet  with  any 
one  to  their  minds  ;  therefore  they  chose  one  Mr.  Richard  Serjeant 
to  officiate,  reserving  the  vicarage  for  some  one  that  was  fitter. 

"  When  I  was  able,  after  about  five  months,  to  go  abroad,  I  went 
to  Kidderminster,  where  I  found  only  Mr.  Serjeant  in  possession  ;  • 
and  the  people  again  vehemently  urged  me  to  take  the  vicarage  ; 
which  I  denied,  and  got  the  magistrates  and  burgesses  together  into 
the  town  hall,  and  told  them,  that,  though  I  was  offered  many 
hundred  pounds  per  annum  elsewhere,  1  was  willing  to  continue 
with  them  in  my  old  lecturer's  place,  which  I  had  before  the  wars,, 
expecting  they  would  make  the  maintenance  a  hundred  pounds  a 
year,  and  a  house ;  and  if  they  would  promise  to  submit  to  that 
doctrine  of  Christ,  which,  as  his  minister,  I  should  deliver  to  them, 
proved  by  the  Holy  Scriptures,  I  v.ould  not  leave  them.  And,, 
that  this  maintenance  should  neither  come  out  of  their  own  purses, 
nor  any  more  of  it  out  of  the  tithes,  save  the  sixty  pounds  which 
the  vicar  had  before  bound  himself  to  pay  me,  I  undertook  to  pro- 
cure an  augmentation  for  Mitton  (a  chapel  in  the  parish)  of  forty 
pounds  per  annum,  which  I  did  ;  and  so  the  sixty  pounds  and  that 


.U^' 


86  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

forty  were  to  be  my  part,  and  the  rest  I  was  to  have  nothing  to  do 
with.  This  covenant  was  drawn  up  between  us  in  articles,  and 
subscribed  ;  in  which  I  disclaimed  the  vicarage  and  pastoral  charge 
of  the  parish,  and  only  undertook  the  lecture. 

"  Thus  the  sequestration  continued  in  the  hands  of  the  towns- 
men, as  aforesaid,  who  gathered  the  tithes  and  paid  me,  (not  a 
hundred,  as  they  promised,)  but  eighty  pounds  per  annum,  or  nine- 
ty at  most,  and  house-rent  for  a  few  rooms  in  the  top  of  another 
man's  house,  which  is  all  I  had  at  Kidderminster.  The  rest  they 
gave  to  Mr.  Sergeant,  and  about  forty  pounds  per  annum  to  the 
old  vicar ;  six  pounds  per  annum  to  the  king  and  lord  for  rents, 
and  a  few  other  charges." 

"Besides  this  ignorant  vicar,  there  was  a  chapel  in  the  parish, 
where  was  an  old  curate  as  ignorant  as  he,  that  had  long  lived  upon 
ten  pounds  a  year  and  unlawful  mamages,  and  was  a  drunkard  and 
a  railer,  and  the  scorn  of  the  country.  I  knew  not  how  to  keep 
him  from  reading,  for  I  judged  it  a  sin  to  tolerate  him  in  any  sacred 
office.  I  got  an  augmentation  for  the  place,  and  an  honest  preach- 
er to  instruct  them,  and  let  this  scandalous  fellow  keep  his  former 
stipend  of  ten  pounds  for  nothing  ;  and  yet  could  never  keep  him 
from  forcing  himself  upon  the  people  to  read,  nor  from  unlawful 
marriages,  till  a  little  before  death  did  call  him  to  his  account.  I 
have  examined  him  about  the  familiar  points  of  religion,  and  he 
could  not  say  half  so  much  to  me  as  I  have  heard  a  child  say."* 

During  the  revolutionary  times  which  followed,  Baxter's  feel- 
ings were  enlisted  chiefly  with  the  Presbyterian  party.  His 
views  of  Cromwell  and  of  the  sectarians  have  already  been  suf- 
ficiently exhibited.  He  had  many  conscientious  scruples  about 
the  allegiance  due  to  the  person  of  the  king ;  and  therefore  he  ab- 
liorred  not  only  the  execution  of  Charles,  but  all  the  distinctive 
.principles  and  measures  of  the  party  which  finally  predominated. 
And  as  he  felt,  so  he  always  acted.  "When  the  soldiers  were 
going  against  the  king  and  the  Scots,  I  wrote  letters  to  some  of 
them,"  he  says,  "  to  tell  them  of  their  sin,  and  desired  them  at 
last  to  begin  to  know  themselves,  it  being  those  same  men  that 
have  so  much  boasted  of  love  to  all  the  godly,  and  pleaded  for 
tender  dealing  with  them,  who  are  now  ready  to  imbrue  their 
swords  in  the  blood  of  such  as  they  acknowledge  to  be  godly." 

"At  the  same  time,  the  Rump,  who  so  much  abhorred  per- 
secution, and  were  for  liberty  of  conscience,  made  an  order  that 
all  ministers  should  keep  their  days  of  humiliation,  to  fast  and 
pray  for  their  success  in  Scotland,  and  that  we  should  keep  their 
days  of  thanksgiving  for  their  victories,  and  this  upon  pain  of 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  79,  80. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  87 

sequestration ;  so  that  we  all  expected  to  be  turned  out.  But 
they  did  not  execute  it  upon  any  save  one  in  our  parts : "  a  fact 
which  shows  that  their  love  of  toleration  was  not  mere  profession. 

"For  my  part,"  continues  the  narrative,  "instead  of  prayinj^ 
and  preaching  for  them,  when  any  of  the  committee  or  soldiers 
were  iny  hearers,  1  labored  to  help  them  understand  what  a  crime 
it  was  to  force  men  to  pray  for  the  success  of  those  who  were  vio- 
lating their  covenant  and  loyalty,  and  going,  in  such  a  cause,  to 
kill  their  brethren."  "  My  own  hearers  were  all  satisfied  with  my 
doctrine  ;  but  the  committee  men  looked  sour,  but  let  me  alone. 
And  the  soldiers  said,  I  was  so  like  to  Love,  that  I  would  not  be 
right  till  I  was  shorter  by  the  head.  Yet  none  of  them  ever 
meddled  with  me,  farther  than  by  the  tongue  ;  nor  was  1  ever,  by 
any  of  them  in  those  times,  forbidden  or  hindered  to  preach  one 
sermon,  only  one  assize  sermon,  which  the  high  sheriff  had  de- 
sired me  to  preach,  and  afterwards  sent  me  word,  as  from  the 
committee,  that  they  desired  me  to  forbear,  and  not  to  preach  be- 
fore the  judges,  because  I  preached  against  the  state.  But  after- 
wards they  excused  it,  as  done  merely  in  kindness  to  me,  to  keep 
me  from  running  myself  into  danger  and  trouble."* 

Christopher  Love,  who  is  referred  to  in  the  preceding  para- 
graph, was  one  of  eight  Presbyterian  ministers  in  London,  who, 
with  others,  were  arrested  on  account  of  some  measures  which 
they  were  secretly  pursuing  to  aid  the  king,  and  to  unite  the  Pres- 
byterians with  the  Scots  in  maintaining  his  authority.  Seven 
were  pardoned  on  the  recantation  of  one  of  them ;  but  Love,  and 
another,  a  layman  concerned  in  the  same  conspiracy,  were  made 
examples  of  public  justice.  He  "was  beheaded,  dying  neither 
timorously  nor  proudly  in  any  des})erate  bravado,  but  with  as 
great  alacrity  and  fearless  quietness  as  if  he  had  but  gone  to  bed, 
and  had  been  as  little  concerned  as  the  standers  by." 

Baxter's  conscientious  scruples,  and  his  Presbyterian  feelings, 
would  of  course  lead  him  to  refuse  any  distinct  acknowledgment 
of  the  government  which  was  erected  after  the  express  abolition  of 
monarchy.  When  the  "  engagement,"  or  promise  of  fidelity  to 
the  commonwealth,  was  put  upon  the  people,  he  took  his  stand 
fearlessly  against  it. 

"  For  my  own  part,"  he  says,  "  though  I  kept  the  town  and 
parish  of  Kidderminster  from  taking  the  covenant,  seeing  how  it 
might  become  a  snare  to  their  consciences  ;  yea,  and  most  of  Wor- 
cestershire besides,  by  keeping  the  ministers  from  olTering  it  in  any 
of  the  congregations  to  the  people,  except  in  Worcester  city, 
where  I  had  no  great  interest,  and  knew  not  what  they  did ;  yet  I 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  67. 


88  LIFE    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

could  not  judge  it  seemly  for  him  that  believed  there  is  a  God,  to 
play  fast  and  loose  with  a  dreadful  oath,  as  if  the  bonds  of  national 
and  personal  vows  were  as  easily  shaken  off  as  Sampson's  cords. — 
Therefore  I  spake  and  preached  against  the  engagement,  and  dis- 
suaded men  from  taking  it."* 

The  principles  by  which  he  regulated  his  conduct  in  regard  to 
the  government  of  Cromwell,  while  it  continued,  he  thus  describes : 
"  I  did  seasonably  and  moderately,  by  preaching  and  printing,  con- 
demn the  usurpation,  and  the  deceit  which  was  the  means  to  bring 
it  to  pass.  I  did  in  open  conference  declare  Cromwell  and  his  ad- 
herents to  be  guilty  of  treason  and  rebellion,  aggravated  by  perfid- 
iousness  and  hypocrisy  to  be  abhorred  of  all  good  and  sober  men. 
But  yet  I  did  not  think  it  my  duty  to  rave  against  him  in  the  pul- 
pit, nor  to  do  this  so  unseasonably  and  imprudently  as  might  irri- 
tate him  to  mischief.  And  the  rather  because,  as  he  kept  up  his 
approbation  of  a  godly  life  in  general,  and  of  all  that  was  good,  ex- 
cept that  which  the  interest  of  his  sinful  cause  engaged  him  to  be 
against ;  so  I  perceived  that  it  was  his  design  to  do  good  in  the 
main,  and  to  promote  the  gospel  and  the  interest  of  godliness,  more 
than  any  had  done  before  him ;  except  in  those  particulars  which 
his  own  interest  was  against.  The  principal  means  that  hencefor- 
ward he  trusted  to  for  his  own  establishment,  was  doing  good,  that 
the  people  might  love  him,  or  at  least  be  willing  to  have  his  govern- 
ment for  that  good,  who  were  against  it  as  it  was  usurpation.  And  I 
made  no  question  but  that,  when  the  rightful  governor  was  re- 
stored, the  people  who  had  adhered  to  him,  being  so  extremely 
irritated,  would  cast  out  multitudes  of  the  ministers,  and  undo  the 
good  which  the  usurper  had  done,  because  he  did  it,  and  would 
bring  abundance  of  calamity  upon  the  land.  Some  men  thought  it 
a  very  hard  question,  whether  they  should  rather  wish  the  con- 
tinuance of  an  usurper  that  will  do  good,  or  the  restitution  of  a 
rightful  governor  whose  followers  will  do  hurt.  For  my  own  part, 
I  thought  my  duty  was  clear  to  disown  the  usurper's  sin,  what  good 
soever  he  would  do ;  and  to  perform  all  my  engagements  to  a  right- 
ful governor,  leaving  the  issue  of  all  to  God ;  but  yet  to  commend 
the  good  which  an  usurper  doth,  and  to  do^any  lawful  thing  which 
may  provoke  him  to  do  more ;  and  to  approve  of  no  evil  which  is 
done  by  any,  either  usurper  or  lawful  governor."! 

At  a  later  period,  he  seems  to  have  changed  his  mind,  respect- 
ing the  course  of  conduct  here  recorded.  In  1691,  he  wrote,  "I 
am  in  great  doubt  how  far  I  did  well  or  ill  in  my  opposition  to 
Cromwell  and  his  army  at  last.  I  am  satisfied  that  it  was  my  duty 
to  disown,  and  as.  I  said,  to  oppose  their  rebellion  and  other  sins. 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  64.  t  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  71. 


LIKE    OF    RICHAKD    BAXTER.  89 

But  there  were  many  honest,  pious  men  among  them.  And  when 
God  cbooseth  the  executioner  of  justice  as  he  pleaseth,  I  am  oft  in 
doubt  whether  I  should  not  have  been  more  passive  and  silent  than 
I  was  ;  though  not  as  Jeremiah  to  Nebuchadnezzar,  to  persuade 
men  to  submit,  yet  to  have  forborne  some  sharp  public  preaching 
and  writing  against  them, — when  they  set  themselves  too  late  to 
promote  piety  to  ingratiate  their  usurpation.  To  disturb  possess- 
ors needeth  a  clear  call,  when  for  what  end  soever  they  do  that 
good,  which  men  of  better  title  will  destroy."* 

But  it  is  more  pleasant  to  turn,  from  the  confusion  of  these  pub- 
lic changes,  to  the  calm,  laborious  life  of  the  diligent  pastor  among 
the  people  of  his  charge.  In  what  circumstances  Baxter  first 
found  the  people  of  Kidderminster ;  what  hatred  and  opposition  he 
encountered ;  and  how  the  violence  of  the  infuriated  rabble  com- 
pelled him  to  flee  for  safety,  after  a  two  years'  residence  among 
them ;  need  not  be  here  repeated.  The  recollection  of  these 
things,  however,  imparts  additional  interest  to  the  record  of  his  la- 
bors and  successes  among  the  same  people  in  more  favorable  cir- 
cumstances. The  story  of  his  life  as  a  pastor,  cannot  be  better 
told  than  in  his  own  words. 

"  I  shall  next  record,  to  the  praise  of  my  Redeemer,  the  com- 
fortable employment  and  successes  which  he  vouchsafed  me  during 
my  abode  at  Kiddenninster,  under  all  these  weaknesses.  And, 
1st.  I  will  mention  my  employment.  2.  My  successes.  And, 
S.  Those  advantages  by  which,  under  God,  they  were  procured. 

''  Before  the  wars,  I  preached  twice  each  Lord  s  day ;  but  after 
the  war,  but  once,  and  once  every  Thursday,  besides  occasional 
sermons.  Every  Thursday  evening,  my  neighbors,  who  were 
most  desirous,  and  had  opportunity,  met  at  my  house,  and  there 
one  of  them  repeated  the  sermon  ;  afterwards  they  proposed  what 
doubts  any  of  them  had  about  the  sermon,  or  any  other  case  of 
conscience  ;  and  I  resolved  their  doubts  :  last  of  all,  I  caused  some- 
times one  and  sometimes  another  of  them  to  pray,  to  exercise 
them  ;  and  sometimes  I  prayed  with  them  myself:  which,  beside 
singing  a  psalm,  was  all  they  did.  And  once  a  week,  also,  some 
of  the  younger  sort,  who  were  not  fit  to  pray  in  so  great  an  assem- 
bly, met  among  a  few  more  privately,  where  they  spent  three 
hours  in  prayer  together.  Every  Saturday  night,  they  met  at  some 
of  their  houses,  to  repeat  the  sermon  of  the  last  Lord's  day,  and  to 
pray  and  prepare  themselves  for  the  following  da}-.  Once  in  a  few 
weeks,  we  had  a  day  of  humiliation  on  one  occasion  or  other. 
Every  religious  woman  that  was  safely  delivered,  instead  of  the  old 
feastings   and  gossipings,   if  they  were  able,  did  keep  a  day  of 

*  Penitent  Confessions,  pp. 04,  2o,  quoted  by  Orme. 
VOL.  I.  1-2 


90 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 


thanksgiving  with  some  of  their  neighbors,  with  them,  praising  God, 
and  singing  psahns,  and  soberly  feasting  together.  Two  days 
ever}'  week,  my  assistant  and  myself  took  fourteen  families  between 
us,  for  private  catechising  and  conference  ;  he  going  through  the 
parish,  and  the  town  coming  to  me.  I  first  heard  them  recite  the 
words  of  the  catechism,  and  then  examined  them  about  the  sense ; 
and  lastly,  urged  them,  with  all  possible  engaging  reason  and  ve- 
hemency,  to  answerable  affection  and  practice.  If  any  of  them 
were  stalled  through  ignorance  or  bashfulness,  I  forbore  to  press 
them  any  farther  to  answers,  but  made  them  hearers,  and  either 
examined  others,  or  turned  all  into  instmction  and  exhortation. 
But  this  I  have  opened  more  fully  in  my  Reformed  Pastor.  I 
spent  about  an  hour  with  each  family,  and  admitted  no  others  to 
be  present ;  lest  bashfulness  should  make  it  burthensome,  or  any 
should  talk  of  the  weaknesses  of  others :  so  that  all  the  aflternoons 
on  Mondays  and  Tuesdays  I  spent  in  this,  after  I  had  begun  it, 
(for  it  was  many  years  before  I  did  attempt  it,)  and  my  assistant 
spent  the  morning  of  the  same  day  in  the  same  employment.  Be- 
fore that,  I  only  catechised  them  in  the  church,  and  conferred  with 
now  and  then  one,  occasionally. 

"  Beside  all  this,  I  w-as  forced,  five  or  six  years,  by  the  people's 
necessity,  to  practice  physic.  A  common  pleurisy  happening  one 
year,  and  no  physician  being  near,  I  was  forced  to  advise  them,  to 
save  their  lives ;  and  I  could  not  afterwards  avoid  the  importunity 
of  the  town  and  country  round  about.  And  because  I  never  took  a 
penny  of  any  one,  I  was  crowded  with  patients;  so  that  almost 
twenty  would  be  at  my  door  at  once  :  and  though  God,  by  more 
success  than  I  expected,  so  long  encouraged  me,  yet,  at  last,  I 
could  endure  it  no  longer;  partly  because  it  hindered  my  other  stud- 
ies, and  partly  because  the  very  fear  of  miscarrying  and  doing  any 
one  harm,  did  make  it  an  intolerable  burden  to  me.  So  that,  af- 
ter some  years'  practice,  I  procured  a  godly,  diligent  physician  to 
come  and  live  in  the  town,  and  bound  myself,  by  promise,  to  prac- 
tice no  more,  unless  in  consultation  with  him,  in  case  of  any  seem- 
ing necessity ;  and  so  with  that  answer  I  turned  them  all  off,  and 
never  meddled  with  it  more. 

"  But  all  these  my  labors,  (except  my  private  conference  with 
the  families,)  even  preaching  and  preparing  for  it,  were  but  my 
recreations,  and,  as  it  were,  the  work  of  my  spare  hours ;  for  my 
writings  were  my  chiefest  daily  labor;  which  yet  went  the  more 
slowly  on,  that  I  never  one  hour  had  an  amanuensis  to  dictate  to, 
and  especially  because  my  weakness  took  up  so  much  of  my  time. 
For  all  the  pains  that  my  infirmities  ever  brought  upon  me,  were 
never  half  so  gi'ievous  an  affliction  as  the  unavoidable  loss  of  my 
time  which  thev  occasioned.     I  could  not  hear,  through  the  weak- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  9\ 

ness  of  my  stomach,  to  rise  before  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  afterwards  not  till  much  later ;  and  some  infirmities  I  labored 
under,  made  it  above  an  hour  before  I  could  be  dressed.  An 
hour,  I  must  of  necessity  have  to  walk  before  dinner,  and  anothei 
before  supper ;  and  after  supper  I  can  seldom  study :  all  which,  be- 
side times  of  family  duties,  and  prayer,  and  eating,  &ic.,  leaveth  me 
but  little  time  to  study :  which  hath  been  the  greatest  external  per- 
sonal affliction  of  all  my  life. 

"Besides  all  these,  every  first  Wednesday  of  the  month  was  our 
monthly  meeting  for  parish  discipline  ;  and  every  first  Thursday  of 
the  month  was  the  ministers'  meeting  for  discipline  and  dispu- 
tation. In  those  disputations  it  fell  to  my  lot  to  be  almost  con- 
stant moderator ;  and  for  every  such  day,  usually,  I  prepared  a 
written  determination ;  all  which  I  mention  as  my  mercies  and  de- 
lights, and  not  as  my  burdens.  Every  Thursday,  besides,  I  had 
the  company  of  divers  godly  ministers  at  my  house,  after  the  lec- 
ture, with  whom  I  spent  that  afternoon  in  the  truest  recreation,  till 
my  neighbors  came  to  meet  for  their  exercise  of  repetition  and 
prayer. 

"  Forever  blessed  be  the  God  of  mercies,  that  brought  me  from 
the  grave,  and  gave  me,  after  wars  and  sickness,  fourteen  years' 
liberty  in  such  sweet  employment !  and  that,  in  times  of  usurpa- 
tion, I  had  all  this  mercy  and  happy  freedom ;  when,  under  our 
rightful  king  and  governor,  I,  and  many  hundreds  more,  are  si- 
lenced and  laid  by  as  broken  vessels,  and  suspected  and  vilified 
as  scarce  to  be  tolerated  to  live  privately  and  quietly  in  the  land  ! 
that  God  should  make  days  of  licentiousness  and  disorder,  under 
an  usurper,  so  great  a  mercy  to  me,  and  many  a  thousand  more, 
who,  under  the  lawful  governors  which  they  desired,  and  in  the 
days  when  order  is  said  to  be  restored,  do  sit  in  obscurity  and  un- 
profitable silence,  and  some  lie  in  prison  ;  and  all  of  us  are  account- 
ed as  the  scum  and  sweepings,  or  offscourings  of  the  earth ! 

"  I  have  mentioned  my  sweet  and  acceptable  employment ;  let 
me,  to  the  praise  of  my  gracious  Lord,  acquaint  you  with  some  of 
my  success ;  and  I  will  not  suppress  it,  though  I  foreknow  that  the 
malignant  will  impute  the  mention  of  it  to  pride  and  ostentation. 
For  it  is  the  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving  which  I  owe  to  my  most  gra- 
cious God,  which  I  will  not  deny  him  for  fear  of  being  censured  as 
proud ;  lest  I  prove  myself  proud,  indeed,  while  I  cannot  undergo 
the  imputation  of  pride  in  the  performance  of  my  thanks  for  such 
undeserved  mercies. 

"  My  public  preaching  met  whh  an  attentive,  diligent  audito- 
ry. Having  broke  over  the  brunt  of  the  opposition  of  the  rabble 
before  the  wars,  I  found  them  afterwards  tractable  and  unpre- 
judiced. 


92  LIFE  OF  RICHARB  BAXTER. 

"Before  I  entered  into  the  ministry,  God  blessed  my  private 
conference  to  the  conversion  of  some,  who  remain  firm  and  eminent 
in  holiness  to  this  day  :  but  then,  and  in  the  beginning  of  my  minis- 
try, I  was  wont  to  number  them  as  jewels ;  but  since  then  I  could 
not  keep  any  number  of  them. 

"  The  congregation  was  usually  full,  so  that  we  were  fain  to  build 
five  galleries  after  my  coming  thither ;  the  church  itself  being  very 
capacious,  and  the  most  commodious  and  convenient  that  ever  I. 
was  in.  Our  private  meetings,  also,  were  full.  On  the  Lord's 
days,  there  was  no  disorder  to  be  seen  in  the  streets ;  but  you  might 
hear  a  hundred  families  singing  psalms  and  repeating  sennons  as 
you  passed  through  the  streets.  In  a  word,  when  I  came  thither 
first,  there  was  about  one  family  in  a  street  that  worshiped  God  and 
called  on  his  name  ;  and  when  I  came  away,  there  were  seme 
streets  where  there  was  not  past  one  family  in  the  side  that  did  not 
do  so ;  .and  did  not,  by  professing  serious  godliness,  give  us  hopes 
of  their  sincerity.  And  in  those  families  which  were  the  worst, 
being  inns  and  alehouses,  usually  some  persons  in  each  house  did 
seem  to  be  religious. 

"  Though  our  administration  of  the  Lord's  supper  was  so  order- 
ed as  displeased  many,  and  the  far  greater  part  kept  away  them- 
selves, yet  we  had  six  hundred  that  were  communicants ;  of  whom 
there  were  not  twelve  that  I  had  not  good  hopes  of,  as  to  their  sin- 
cerity ;  and  those  few  that  did  consent  to  our  communion,  and  yet 
lived  scandalously,  were  excommunicated  aftei'wards.  And  I  hope 
there  were  many  who  had  the  fear  of  God,  that  came  not  to  our 
communion  in  the  sacrament,  some  of  them  being  kept  off  by  hus- 
bands, by  parents,  by  masters,  and  some  dissuaded  by  men  that 
differed  from  us.  Those  many  that  kept  away,  yet  took  it  patient- 
ly, and  did  not  revile  us  as  doing  them  wrong ;  and  those  unruly 
young  men  who  were  excommunicated,  bore  it  patiently  as  to  their 
outward  behavior,  though  their  liearts  were  full  of  bitterness. 

"  When  1  set  upon  personal  conference  with  each  family,  and 
catechising  them,  there  were  very  few  families  in  all  the  town  that 
refused  to  come ;  and  those  few  v.ere  beggars  at  the  town's  ends, 
who  were  so  ignorant,  that  they  were  ashamed  it  should  be  mani- 
fest. Few  families  went  from  me  without  some  tears,  or  seeming- 
ly serious  promises  of  a  godly  life.  Yet  many  ignorant  and  un- 
godly persons  there  were  still  among  us;  but  most  of  them  were 
in  the  parish,  and  not  in  the  town,  and  in  those  parts  of  the  parish 
which  were  farthest  from  the  towTi.  And  whereas  one  part  of 
the  parish  was  impropriate,  and  paid  titlies  to  laymen,  and  the  other 
part  maintauied  the  church,  a  brook  dividing  them,  it  fell  out 
that  almost  all  that  side  of  the  parish  which  paid  tithes  to  the 
church,  were  godly,    honest   people,  and  did  it  willingly,   with- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER-  93^ 

out  contention,  and  most  of  the  bad  people  of  the  parish  Uved  on 
the  other  side. 

"  Some  of  the  poor  men  did  coYnpetently  understand  the  body 
of  divinity,  and  were  able  to  judge  in  diiHcult  controversies. 
Some  of  them  were  so  able  in  prayer,  that  very  few  ministers  did 
match  them  in  order,  and  fullness,  and  apt  expressions,  and  holy 
oratory,  with  fervency.  Abundance  of  them  were  able  to  pray 
very  laudably  with  their  families,  or  with  others.  The  temper  of 
their  minds  and  the  innocency  of  their  lives,  were  much  more 
laudable  than  their  parts.  The  professors  of  serious  godliness 
were  generally  of  very  humble  minds  and  carriage ;  of  meek  and 
quiet  behavior  unto  others;  and  of  blamelessness  and  innocency 
in  their  conversation. 

"  God  was  pleased  also  to  give  me  abundant  encouragement,  in 
the  lectures  which  I  preached  abroad  in  other  places ;  as  at  Wor- 
cester, Cleobury,  &,c.,  but  especially  at  Dudley  and  Sheffnal. 
At  the  former  of  which,  being  the  first  place  that  ever  I  preached 
in,  the  poor  nailers,  and  other  laborers,  would  not  only  crowd  the 
church  as  full  as  ever  I  saw  any  in  London,  but  also  hang  upon 
the  windows  and  the  leads  without.  ;■    ; 

"  In  my  poor  endeavors  with  my  brethren  in  the  ministry,  my 
labors  were  not  lost ;  our  disputations  proved  not  unprofitable. 
Our  meetings  were  never  contentious,  but  always  comfortable  ;  we 
took  great  delight  in  the  society  of  each  other ;  so  that  I  know 
that  the  remembrance  of  those  days  is  pleasant  botli  to  them  and 
me.  When  discouragements  had  long  kept  me  from  motioning  a 
way  of  church  order  and  discipline,  which  all  might  agree  in,  that 
we  might  neither  have  churches  ungoverned,  nor  fall  into  divis- 
ions among  ourselves  ;  at  the  first  mentioning  of  it,  I  found  a 
readier  consent  than  I  could  expect,  and  all  went  on  without  any 
great  obstructing  difficulties.  When  I  attempted  also  to  bring 
them  all  conjointly  to  the  work  of  catechising  and  instructing 
every  family  by  itself,  I  found  a  ready  consent  in  most,  and  per- 
formance in  many. 

"  So  that  I  must  here,  to  the  praise  of  my  dear  Redeemer,  set 
up  this  pillar  of  remembrance,  even  to  his  praise  who  hath 
employed  me  so  many  years  in  so  comfortable  a  work,  with  such 
encouraging  success.  O  what  am  I,  a  worthless  worm,  not  only 
wanting  academical  honors,  but  much  of  that  furniture  which  is 
needful  to  so  high  a  work,  that  God  should  thus  abundantly  en- 
courage me,  when  the  reverend  instructors  of  my  youth  did  labor 
fifty  years  together  in  one  place,  and  could  scarcely  say  they  had 
converted  one  or  two  in  their  parishes  !  And  the  greater  was  this 
mercy,  because  I  was  naturally  of  a  discouraged  spirit ;  so  that  if 
I  had  preached  one  year,  and  seen  no  fruits  of  it.  1  should  hardly 


94  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

have  forborne  running  away,  like  Jonah ;  but  should  have  thought 
that  God  called  not  to  that  place.  Yea,  the  mercy  was  yet 
greater,  in  that  it  was  of  farther  public  benefit.  For  some  Inde- 
pendents and  Anabaptists,  that  had  before  conceited  that  parish 
churches  were  the  great  obstruction  of  all  true  church  order  and 
discipline,  and  that  it  was  impossible  to  bring  them  to  any  good 
consistency,  did  quhe  change  their  minds  when  they  saw  what 
was  done  at  Kidderminster." 

"And  the  zeal  and  knowledge  of  this  poor  people  provoked 
many  in  other  parts  of  the  land.  And  though  I  have  been  now 
absent  from  them  about  six  years,  and  they  have  been  assaulted 
with  pulpit  calumnies  and  slanders,  with  threatenings  and  impris- 
onments, with  enticing  words  and  seducing  reasonings,  they  yet 
stand  fast,  and  keep  their  integrity.  Many  of  them  are  gone  to 
God,  and  some  are  removed,  and  some  now  in  prison,  and  most 
still  at  home,  but  none,  that  I  hear  of,  that  are  fallen  off,  or  forsake 
their  uprightness. 

"Having  related  my  comfortable  successes  in  this  place,  I  shall 
next  tell  you  by  what  and  how  many  advantages  this  was  effected, 
under  that  grace  which  worketh  by  means,  though  with  a  fi*ee 
diversity ;  which  I  do  chiefly  for  their  sakes  who  would  know  the 
means  of  other  men's  experiments  in  managing  ignorant  and  sinful 
parishes. 

"1.  One  advantage  w^as,  that  I  came  to  a  people  who  never 
had  any  awakening  ministry  before,  but  a  few  formal,  cold  sermons 
of  the  curate ;  for,  if  they  had  been  hardened  under  a  powerful 
ministry,  and  had  been  sermon-proof,  I  should  have  expected  less. 

"  2.  Another  advantage  was,  that  at  first  I  was  in  the  vigor  of 
my  spirits,  and  had  naturally  a  familiar  moving  voice,  (which  is  a 
gi'eat  matter  with  the  common  hearers,)  and  doing  all  in  bodily 
weakness  as  a  dying  man,  my  soul  was  the  more  easily  brought  to 
seriousness,  and  to  preach  as  a  dying  man  to  dying  men.  For 
drowsy  formality  and  customariness  doth  but  stupefy  the  hearers, 
and  rock  them  asleep.  It  must  be  serious  preaching,  which  will 
make  men  serious  in  hearing  and  obeying  it. 

"  3.  Another  advantage  was,  that  most  of  the  bitter  enemies  of 
godliness  in  the  town,  who  rose  in  tumults  against  me  before,  in 
their  very  hatred  of  Puritans,  had  gone  out  into  wars,  into  the 
king's  armies,  and  were  quickly  killed,  and  few  of  them  ever 
returned  again ;  and  so  there  were  few  to  make  any  great  opposi- 
teon  to  godliness. 

"  4.  Another  and  the  greatest  advantage  was,  the  change  that 
was  made  in  the  public  affairs,  by  the  success  of  the  wars,  which, 
however  it  was  done,  and  though  much  corrupted  by  the  usurpers, 
yet  was  such  as  removed  many  and  great  impediments  to  men's 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  95 

salvation.  For  before,  the  riotous  rabble  had  boldness  enough  to 
make  serious  godliness  a  common  scorn,  and  call  them  all  Puritans 
and  Precisians  who  did  not  care  as  little  for  God,  and  heaven,  and 
their  souls,  as  they  did.  Especially,  if  a  man  was  not  fully  sat- 
isfied with  their  undisciplined,  disordered  churches,  or  lay-chancel- 
lor's excommunications,  he,  then,  no  name  was  bad  enough  for 
him.  And  the  bishop's  articles  inquiring  after  such,  and  their 
courts,  and  the  high  commission,  grievously  afflicting  those  who 
did  but  fast  and  pray  together,  or  go  from  an  ignorant,  drunken 
reader,  to  hear  a  godly,  able  preacher  at  the  next  parish,  kept 
religion,  among  the  vulgar,  under  either  continual  reproach  or 
terror ;  encouraging  the  rabble  to  despise  it,  and  revile  it,  and  dis- 
couraging those  that  else  would  own  it.  Experience  telleth  us, 
that  it  is  a  lamentable  impediment  to  men's  conversion  when  it  is 
a  '  way  every  where  spoken  against,'  and  persecuted  by  superiors, 
which  they  must  embrace ;  and  when,  at  theii-  first  approaches, 
they  must  go  through  such  dangers  and  obloquy  as  is  fitter  for  con- 
firmed Christians  to  be  exercised  with,  than  unconverted  sinners, 
or  young  beginners.  Therefore,  though  Cromwell  gave  liberty  to 
all  sects  among  us,  and  did  not  set  up  any  party  alone  by  force, 
yet  this  much  gave  abundant  advantage  to  the  gospel,  removing 
the  prejudices  and  the  terrors  which  hindered  it ;  especially  con- 
sidering that  godliness  had  countenance  and  reputation  also,  as 
well  as  liberty.  Whereas  before,  if  it  did  not  appear  in  all  the 
fetters  and  formalities  of  the  times,  it  was  the  common  way  to 
shame  and  ruin.  Hearing  sermons  abroad,  when  there  were  none 
or  worse  at  home  ;  fasting  and  praying  together ;  the  strict  obser- 
vation of  the  Lord's  day,  and  such  like,  went  under  the  dangerous 
name  of  Puritanism,  as  well  as  opposing  bishops  and  ceremonies. 

"  I  know,  in  these  times,  you  may  meet  with  men  who  confi- 
dently affinn  that  all  religion  was  then  trodden  down,  and  heresy 
and  schism  were  the  only  piety  ;  but  I  give  warning  to  all  ages, 
by  the  experience  of  this  incredible  age,  that  they  lake  heed  how 
they  believe  any,  whoever  they  be,  while  they  are  speaking  for 
the  interest  of  their  factions  and  opinions,  against  those  that  were 
their  real  or  supposed  adversaries. 

"  For  my  part,  I  bless  God  who  gave  me,  even  under  an  usm-per 
whom  I  opposed,  such  liberty  and  advantage  to  preach  his  gospel 
with  success,  as  I  cannot  have  under  a  king  to  whom  I  have  sworn 
and  performed  tnie  subjection  and  obedience  ;  yea,  such  as  no  age, 
since  the  gospel  came  into  this  land,  did  before  possess,  as  far  as  I 
can  learn  from  history."  "  I  shall  add  this  much  more,  for  the 
sake  of  posterity,  that  as  much  as  I  have  said  and  written  against 
licentiousness  in  religion,  and  for  the  magistrates'  power  in  it ;  and 
though  I  think  that  land  most  happy  whose  rulers  use  their  au- 


m 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 


thority  for  Christ,  as  well  as  for  the  civil  peace ;  yet,  in  compari- 
son of  the  rest  of  the  world,  I  shall  think  that  land  happy  which 
hath  but  bare  liberty  to  be  as  good  as  the  people  are  willing  to  be.- 
And  if  countenance  and  maintenance  be  but  added  to  liberty,  and 
tolerated  errors  and  sects  be  but  forced  to  keep  the  peace,  and  not 
to  oppose  the  substantial  of  Christianity,  I  shall  not  hereafter 
much  fear  such  toleration,  nor  despair  that  truth  will  bear  down 
adversaries. 

"  5.  Another  advantage  which  I  found,  was  the  acceptation  of 
my  person  among  the  people.  Though  to  win  estimation  and  love 
to  ourselves  only,  be  an  end  that  none  but  proud  men  and  hypo- 
crites intend,  yet  it  is  most  certain  that  the  gratefulness  of  the 
person  doth  ingratiate  the  message,  and  greatly  prepareth  the  people 
to  receive  the  truth.  Had  they  taken  me  to  be  ignorant,  errone- 
ous, scandalous,  worldly,  self-seeking,  or  such  like,  I  could  have 
expected  small  success  among  them. 

"  6.  Another  advantage  which  I  had,  was  by  the  zeal  and  dili- 
gence of  the  godly  people  of  the  place ;  who  thirsted  after  the 
salvation  of  their  neighbors,  and  were  in  private  my  assistants, 
and,  being  dispersed  through  the  town,  were  ready  in  almost  all 
companies  to  repress  seducing  words,  and  to  justify  godliness,  and 
convince,  reprove,  exhort  men  accordmg  to  their  deeds;  as  also 
to  teach  them  how  to  pray;  and  to  help  them  to  sanctify  the 
Lord's  day.  For  those  people  that  had  none  in  theu*  families  who 
could  pray,  or  repeat  the  sermons,  went  to  their  next  neighbor's 
house  who  could  do  it,  and  joined  with  them ;  so  that  some  of  the 
houses  of  the  ablest  men  in  each  street  were  filled  with  them  that 
could  do  nothing,  or  little,  in  their  own. 

"  7.  And  the  holy,  humble,  blameless  lives  of  the  religious  sort 
were  also  a  gi-eat  advantage  to  me.  The  malicious  people  could 
not  say,  '  Your  professors  here  are  as  proud  and  covetous  as  any ; ' 
but  the  blameless  lives  of  godly  people  did  shame  opposers,  and 
put  to  silence  the  ignorance  of  foolish  men,  and  many  were  won 
by  then-  good  conversation. 

"8.  Our  unity  and  concord  were  a  great  advantage  to  us;  and 
our  freedom  from  those  sects  and  heresies,  with  which  many  other 
places  were  infected.  We  had  no  private  church,  and  though  we 
had  private  meetings,  we  had  not  pastor  against  pastor,  or  church 
against  church,  or  sect  against  sect,  or  Christian  against  Christian. 
There  was  none  that  had  any  odd  opinions  of  his  own,  or  censured 
his  teacher  as  erroneous',  or  questioned  his  call.  At  Bewdley, 
there  was  a  church  of  Anabaptists ;  at  Worcester,  the  Indepen- 
dents gathered  theirs.  But  we  were  all  of  one  mind,  and  mouth, 
and  way ;  not  a  Separatist,  Anabaptist,  or  Antinomian  in  the  town. 
One  journeyman  shoemaker  turned  Anabaptist,  but  he  left  the 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  97 

town  upon  it,  and  went  among  them.  When  people  saw  diversity 
of  sects  and  churches  in  any  place,  it  greatly  hindered  their  con- 
version ;  and  they  were  at  a  loss,  and  knew  not  what  party  to  be 
of,  or  what  way  to  go,  and  therefore  would  be  of  no  religion  at  all, 
and  perhaps  derided  them  all,  whom  they  saw  thus  disagreed. 
But  they  had  no  such  offence  or  objection  there ;  they  could  not 
ask,  '  Which  church  or  party  shall  1  be  of?'  for  we  were  all  but 
as  one.  Nay,  so  modest  were  the  ablest  of  the  people,  that  they 
never  were  inclined  to  a  preaching  way,  nor  to  make  ostentation 
of  their  parts ;  but  took  warning  by  the  pride  of  others  ;  and 
thought  they  had  teaching  enough  by  their  pastors,  and  that  it  was 
better  for  them  to  bestow  their  laW  in  digesting  that,  than  in 
preaching  themselves. 

"  9.  Our  private  meetings  were  a  marvelous  help  to  the  propa- 
gating of  godliness ;  for  thereby  truths  that  slipped  away,  were 
recalled,  and  the  seriousness  of  the  people's  minds  renewed,  and 
good  desires  cherished  ;  and  hereby  knowledge  was  much  increas- 
ed ;  and  here  the  younger  sort  learned  to  pray  by  frequently  hear- 
ing others.  And  here  I  had  opportunity  to  know  their  case ;  for 
if  any  were  touched  and  awakened  in  public,  I  should  presently 
see  him  drop  into  our  private  meetings.  Hereby,  also,  idle  meet- 
ings and  loss  of  time  were  prevented ;  and  so  far  were  we  from 
being  by  this  in  danger  of  schism,  or  divisions,  that  it  was  the 
principal  means  to  prevent  them;  for  here  I  was  usually  present 
with  them,  answering  their  doubts,  and  silencing  objections,  and 
moderating  them  all.  And  some  private  meetings,  I  found,  they 
were  exceedingly  much  inclined  to  ;  and  if  I  had  not  allowed  them 
such  as  were  lawful  and  profitable,  they  would  have  been  ready  to 
run  to  such  as  were  unlawful  and  hurtful.  And  by  encouraging 
them  here  in  the  fit  exercise  of  their  parts,  in  repetition,  prayer 
and  asking  questions,  I  kept  them  from  inclining  to  the  disorderly 
exercise  of  them,  as  the  sectaries  do.  We  had  no  meetings  in 
opposition  to  the  public  meetings,  but  all  in  subordination  to  them, 
and  under  my  oversight  and  guidance,  whicii  proved  a  way  profit- 
able to  all. 

"  10.  Another  thing  which  advantaged  us,  was  some  public 
disputations  whicli  we  had  with  gainsayers,  which  very  much  con- 
firmed the  people.  The  Quakers  would  faiii  have  got  entertain- 
ment, and  set  up  a  meeting  in  the  town,  and  frequently  railed  at 
me  in  the  congregation ;  but  when  1  had  once  given  them  leave 
to  meet  in  the  church  for  a  dispute,  and,  before  the  people,  liad 
opened  their  deceits  and  shame,  none  would  entertain  them  more, 
nor  did  they  get  one  proselyte  among  us." 

"11.  Another  advantage  was  the  great  honesty  and  dirmence 
of  my  assistantsr*^ 

VOL.    I.  13 


98  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

"  12.  Another  was  the  presence  and  countenance  of  honest 
justices  of  peace,"  "  who  ordinarily  were  godly  men,  and  always 
such  as  would  be  thought  so,  and  were  ready  to  use  their  authority 
to  suppress  sin  and  promote  goodness."  "But  now  the  world  is 
changed. 

"  13.  Another  help  to  my  success,  was  that  small  relief  which 
my  low  estate  enabled  me  to  afford  the  poor.  .Though  the  place 
Avas  reckoned  at  near  two  hundred  pounds  per  annum,  there  came 
but  ninety  pounds,  and  sometimes  only  eighty  pounds  to  me.  Be- 
side which,  some  years  I  had  sixty  or  eighty  pounds  a  year  of  the 
booksellers  for  my  books;  which  little,  dispersed  among  them, 
much  reconciled  them  to  the  doctrine  that  I  taught.  I  took  the 
aptest  of  their  children  from  the  school,  and  sent  divers  of  them  to 
the  universities ;  where,  for  eight  pounds  a  year,  or  ten,  at  most, 
by  the  help  of  my  friends  there,  I  maintained  them."  "  Some  of 
these  are  honest, -able  ministers,  now  cast  out  with  their  brethren; 
but  two  or  three,  having  no  other  way  to  live,  turned  great  Con- 
formists, and  are  preachers  now.  In  giving  the  little  I  had,  I  did 
not  inquire  whether  they  were  good  or  bad,  if  they  asked  relief; 
for  the  bad  had  souls  and  bodies  that  needed  charity  most.  And 
I  found  that  three  pence,  or  a  groat,  to  every  poor  body  that  asked 
me,  was  no  great  matter  in  a  year ;  but  a  few  pounds  in  that  way 
of  giving  would  go  far.  And  this  truth  I  will  speak  to  the  encour- 
agement of  the  charitable,  that  what  little  money  I  have  now  by 
me,  I  got  it  almost  all,  I  scarce  know  how,  at  that  time  when  I 
gave  most,  and  since  I  have  had  less  opportunity  of  giving,  I  have 
had  less  increase. 

"14.  Another  furtherance  of  my  work,  was  the  writings  which 
I  wrote  and  gave  away  among  them.  Of  some  small  books  I 
gave  each  family  one,  which  came  to  about  eight  hundred  ;  and  of 
the  bigger,  I  gave  fewer :  and  every  family  that  was  poor,  and  had 
not  a  Bible,  I  gave  a  Bible  to.  I  had  found  myself  the  benefit 
of  reading  to  be  so  great,  that  I  could  not  but  think  it  would  be 
profitable  to  others. 

'•'  15.  And  it  was  a  great  advantage  to  me,  that  my  neighbors 
were  of  such  a  trade,  as  allowed  them  time  enough  to  read  or  talk 
of  holy  things.  For  the  town  liveth  upon  the  weaving  of  Kidder- 
minster stuffs ;  and,  as  they  stand  m  their  looms,  they  can  set  a 
book  before  them,  or  edify  one  another ;  whereas  ploughmen  and 
many  others,  are  so  wearied,  or  continually  employed,  either  in 
the  labors,  or  the  cares  of  their  callings,  that  it  is  a  gieat  impedi- 
ment to  their  salvation.  Freeholders  and  tradesmen  are  the 
strength  of  religion  and  civility  in  the  land  ;  and  gentlemen,  and 
beggars,  and  servile  tenants,  are  the  strength  of  iniquity.  Though 
among  these  sorts,  there  are  some  also  that  are  good  and  just,  as 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  99 

among  the  other  there  are  many  bad.  And  their  constant  con- 
verse and  traffic  with  London,  doth  much  promote  civihty  and 
piety  among  tradesmen. 

"16.  I  found  also  that  my  single  life  afforded  me  much  ad- 
vantage ;  for  I  could  the  easier  take  my  people  for  my  children, 
and  think  all  that  I  had  too  little  for  them,  in  that  I  had  no  chil- 
dren of  my  own  to  tempt  me  to  another  way  of  using  it.  Being 
discharged  from  the  most  of  family  cares,  and  keeping  but  one 
servant,  I  had  the  greater  vacancy  and  liberty  for  the  labors  of  my 
Calling. 

"  17.  God  made  use  of  my  practice  of  physic  among  them,  also^ 
as  a  very  great  advantage  to  my  ministry ;  for  they  that  cared  not 
for  their  souls,  did  love  their  lives,  and  care  for  their  bodies  ;  and, 
by  this,  they  were  made  almost  as  observant,  as  a  tenant  is  of  his 
landlord.  Sometimes  I  could  see  before  me  in  the  church,  a  very 
considerable  part  of  the  congregation,  whose  lives  God  had  made 
me  a  means  to  save,  or  to  recover  their  health ;  and  doing  it  for 
nothing  so  obliged  them,  that  they  would  readily  hear  me. 

"  18.  It  was  a  great  advantage  to  me,  that  there  were  at  last 
few  that  were  bad,  but  some  of  their  own  relations  were  converted. 
Many  childrerf  did  God  work  upon,  at  fourteen,  fifteen,  or  sixteen 
years  of  age  ;  and  this  did  marvellously  reconcile  the  minds  of  the 
parents  and  elder  sort  to  godliness.  They  that  would  not  hear  me, 
would  hear  their  own  children.  They  that  before  could  have  talk- 
ed against  godliness,  would  not  hear  it  spoken  against,  when  it  was 
their  children's  case.  Many  who  would  not  be  brought  to  it  them- 
selves, were  proud  that  they  had  understanding,  religious  children ; 
and  we  had  some  old  persons  of  eighty  years  of  age,  who  are,  I 
hope,  in  heaven,  and  the  conversion  of  their  own  children  was  the 
chief  means  to  overcome  their  prejudice,  and  old  customs,  and 
conceits. 

"  19.  And  God  made  great  use  of  sickness  to  do  good  to  many. 
For  though  sick-bed  promises  are  usually  soon  forgotten,  yet  it 
was  otherwise  with  many  among  us ;  and  as  soon  as  they  were  re- 
covered, they  came  first  to  our  private  meetings,  and  so  kept  in  a 
learning  state  till  further  fmits  of  piety  appeared. 

"  20.  And  I  found  that  our  disowning  the  iniquity  of  the  times 
did  tend  to  the  good  of  many.  For  they  despised  those  that  al- 
ways followed  the  stronger  side,  and  justified  every  wickedness 
that  was  done  by  the  stronger  party."  "  And  had  I  owned  the 
guilt  of  others,  it  would  have  been  my  shame,  and  the  hindrance  of 
my  work,  and  provoked  God  to  have  disowned  me. 

"21.  Anotlier  of  my  great  advantages  was,  the  true  worth  and 
unanimity  of  the  honest  ministers  of  the  country  round  about  us, 
who  associated  in  a  way  of  concord  with  us.     Their  preaching  was 


100  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  * 

powerful  and  sober ;  their  fruits  peaceable  and  meek,  disowning  the 
treasons  and  iniquities  of  the  times  as  well  as  we.  They  were 
wholly  addicted  to  the  winning  of  souls  ;  self-denying,  and  of  most 
blameless  lives  ;  evil  spoken  of  by  no  sober  men,  but  greatly  be- 
loved by  their  owTi  people  and  all  that  knew  them  ;  adhering  to  no 
faction;  neither  Episcopal,  Presbyterian,  nor  Independent,  as  to 
parties  ;  but  desiring  union,  and  loving  that  which  is  good  in  all. 
These,  meeting  weekly  at  our  lecture,  and  monthly  at  our  disputa- 
tion, constrained  a  reverence  in  the  people  to  their  worth  and  unity, 
and  consequently  furthered  my  work." 

,  "22.  Another  advantage  tome  was  the  quality  of  the  sinners  of 
the  place.  There  were  two  drunkards  almost  at  the  next  doors  to 
me,  who,  one  by  night,  and  the  other  by  day,  did  constantly,  every 
week,  if  not  twice  or  thrice  a  week,  roar  and  rave  in  the  streets  like 
stark  mad  men.  These  were  so  beastly  and  ridiculous,  that  they 
made  that  sin,  of  which  we  were  in  most  danger,  the  more  ab- 
horred. 

"23.  Another  advantage  to  me  was  the  quality  of  the  apostates 
of  the  place.  If  we  had  been  troubled  with  mere  Separatists,  Ana- 
baptists, or  others  that  en-ed  plausibly  and  tolerably,  they  might 
perhaps  have  divided  us,  and  drawn  away  disciples  after  them. 
But  we  had  only  two  professors  that  fell  off  in  the  wars ;  and  one  or 
two  that  made  no  profession  of  godliness  were  drawn  in  to  them. 
Those  that  fell  off,  were  such  as  before,  by  their  want  of  grounded 
understanding,  humility,  and  mortification,  gave  us  the  greatest 
suspicion  of  their  stability  ;  and  they  fell  to  no  less  than  familism 
and  infidelity,  making  a  jest  of  the  scripture  and  of  the  essentials 
of  Christianity.  And  as  they  fell  from  the  faith,  so  they  fell  to 
drinking,  gaming,  furious  passions,  -(horribly  abusing  their  wives, 
and  thereby  saving  them  from  their  errors,)  and  to  a  vicious  life. 
So  that  they  stood  up  as  pillars  and  monuments  of  God's  justice,  to 
warn  all  others  to  take  heed  of  self-conceitedness,  and  heresies,  and 
of  departing  from  truth  and  Christian  unity.  And  so  they  were  a 
principal  means  to  keep  out  all  sects  and  errors  from  the  town. 

"  24.  Another  great  help  to  my  success  at  last,  was  the  fore- 
described  work  of  personal  conference  with  every  family  apart,  and 
catechising  and  instiiicting  them.  That  which  was  spoken  to  tliem 
personally,  and  which  put  them  sometimes  upon  answers,  awaken- 
ed their  attention,  and  was  easier  applied  than  public  preaching,  and 
seemed  to  do  much  more  upon  them. 

"  25.  And  the  exercise  of  church  discipline  was  no  small  fur- 
therance of  the  people's  good :  for  I  found  plainly,  that,  without  it, 
I  could  not  have  kept  the  religious  sort  from  separations  and  divisions. 
There  is  something  generally  in  their  dispositions,  which  inclineth 
them  to  dissociate  from  open  vnigodly  sinners,  as  men  of  another 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  101 

nature  and  society ;  and  if  they  had  not  seen  me  do  something  rea- 
sonable for  a  regular  separation  of  the  notorious,  obstinate  sinners 
from  the  rest,  they  would  irregularly  have  withdrawn  themselves ; 
and  it  liad  not  been  in  my  power  with  bare  words  to  satisfy  them, 
when  they  saw  we  had  liberty  to  do  what  we  would. 

"  It  was  my  greatest  care  and  contrivance  so  to  order  this  work, 
that  we  might  neither  make  a  mere  mock-show  of  discipline,  nor, 
with  Independents,  unchurch  the  parish  church,  and  gather  a  church 
out  of  them  anew.  Therefore  all  the  ministers  associate  agreed 
together,  to  practice  so  much  discipline  as  the  Episcopal,  Presby- 
terians, and  Independents,  were  agreed  on  that  presbyters  might 
and  must  do.  And  we  told  the  people  that  we  were  not  about  to 
gather  a  new  church,  but,  taking  the  parish  for  the  church,  unless 
they  were  unwilling  to  own  their  membership,  we  resolved  to  ex- 
ercise that  discipline  with  all :  only,  because  there  are  some  Pa- 
pists and  famihsts  or  infidels  among  us,  and  because,  in  these  times 
of  liberty,  we  cannot,  nor  desire  to,  compel  any  against  their  wills, 
we  desired  all  that  did  own  their  membership  in  this  parish  church, 
and  take  us  for  their  pastors,  to  give  in  their  names,  or  any  other 
way  signify  that  they  do  so  ;  and  those  that  are  not  willing  to  be 
members,  and  rather  choose  to  withdraw  themselves  than  live 
under  disciphne,  to  be  silent. 

"  And  so,  for  fear  of  discipline,  all  the  parish  kept  off,  except 
about  six  hundred,  when  there  were  in  all  above  sixteen  hundred 
at  age  to  be  communicants.  Yet  because  it  was  their  own  doing, 
and  they  knew  they  might  come  in  when  they  would,  they  were 
quiet  in  their  separation ;  for  we  took  them  for  the  Separatists. 
Those  that  scrupled  our  gesture  at  the  sacrament,  I  openly  told 
that  they  should  have  it  in  their  own.  Yet  did  I  baptize  all  their 
children,  but  made  them  first,  as  I  would  have  done  by  strangers, 
give  me  privately,  or  publicly  if  they  had  rather,  an  account  of 
their  faith ;  and  if  any  father  was  a  scandalous  sinner,  I  made  him 
confess  his  sin  openly,  with  seeming  penitence,  before  I  would 
baptize  his  child.  If  he  refused  it,  I  forbore  till  the  mother  came 
to  present  it ;  for  I  rarely,  if  ever,  found  both  father  and  mother  so 
destitute  of  knowledge  and  faith,  as,  in  a  church  sense,  to  be  inca- 
pable hereof." 

"  26.  Another  advantage  which  1  found  to  my  success,  was,  by 
ordering  my  doctrine  to  them  in  a  suitableness  to  the  main  end, 
and  yet  so  as  might  suit  their  dispositions  and  diseases.  The 
things  which  I  daily  opened  to  them,  and  with  greatest  importuni- 
ty labored  to  imprint  upon  their  minds,  were  the  great  fundamen- 
tal principles  of  Christianity  contained  in  their  baptismal  covenant, 
even  a  right  knowledge  and  belief  of,  and  subjection  and  love  to, 
God  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy  Ghost ;  love  to  all  men, 


102  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

and  concord  with  the  church  and  one  another.  I  did  so  daily  in- 
culcate the  knowledge  of  God  our  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sancti- 
fier,  love  and  obedience  to  God,  unity  with  the  church  catholic, 
and  love  to  men,  and  the  hope  of  life  eternal,  that  these  were  the 
matter  of  their  daily  cogitations  and  discourses,  and  uideed,  their 
religion. 

"  Yet,  I  did  usually  put  in  something  into  my  sermon,  which 
was  above  their  own  discovery,  and  which  they  had  not  known  be- 
fore ;  and  this  I  did  that  they  might  be  kept  humble,  and  still  per- 
ceive their  ignorance,  and  be  willing  to  keep  in  a  learning  state. 
For  when  preachers  tell  their  people  of  no  more  than  they  know, 
and  do  rtot  show  that  they  excel  them  in  knowledge,  and  easily 
overtop  them  in  abilities,  the  people  will  be  tempted  to  turn  preach- 
ers themselves,  and  think  that  they  have  learned  all  that  the  min- 
isters can  teach  them,  and  are  as  wise  as  they ;  and  they  will  be 
apt  to  contemn  their  teachers,  and  wrangle  with  all  their  doctrines, 
and  set  their  wits  against  them,  and  hear  them  as  censurers,  and 
not  disciples,  to  their  own  undoing,  and  to  the  disturbance  of  the 
church  ;  and  they  will  easily  draw  disciples  after  them.  The  bare 
authority  of  the  clergy  will  not  serve  the  turn,  without  overtopping 
ministerial  abilities.  And  I  did  this  to  increase  their  knowledge, 
and  also  to  make  religion  pleasant  to  them,  by  a  daily  addition  to 
their  former  light,  and  to  draw  them  on  with  desire  and  delight. 
But  these  things  which  they  did  not  know  before,  were  not  unprof- 
itable controversies  which  tended  not  to  edification,  or  novelties  in 
doctrine  contrary  to  the  universal  church ;  but  either  such  points 
as  tended  to  illustrate  the  great  doctrines  before  mentioned,  or 
usually  about  the  right  methodizing  of  them  ;  the  opening  of  the 
true  and  profitable  method  of  the  creed  or  doctrine  of  faith ;  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  or  matter  of  our  desires ;  and  the  ten  command- 
ments, or  the  law  of  practice. 

"  27.  Anotlier  help  to  my  success  was,  that  my  people  were  not 
rich.  There  were  among  them  very  few  beggars  ;  because  their 
common  trade  of  stuff-weaving  would  find  work  for  all,  men,  wo- 
men, and  children,  that  were  able.  And  there  were  none  of  the 
tradesmen  very  rich,  seeing  their  trade  was  poor,  that  would  but 
find  them  food  and  raiment.  The  magistrates  of  the  town  were, 
few  of  them,  worth  forty  pounds  per  annum ;  and  most  not  half  so 
much.  Three  or  four  of  the  richest  thriving  masters  of  the  trade, 
got  about  five  or  six  hundred  pounds  in  twenty  years.  The  gene- 
rality of  the  master  workmen  lived  but  a  little  better  than  their 
journeymen,  from  hand  to  mouth,  but  only  that  they  labored  not 
altogether  so  hard. 

"And  it  is  the  poor  that  receive  the  glad  tidings  of  the  gospel, 
and  that  are  usually  rich  in  faith,  and  heirs  of  the  heavenly  riches 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  '  103 

which  God  hath  promised  to  them  that  love  him.     As  Mr.  George 
Herbert  saith  in  his  Church  Militant, 

"  Gold  and  the  gospel  never  did  agree  ; 
Religion  always  sides  with  poverty." 

"One  knight,  Sir  Ralph  Clare,  who  lived  among  us,  did  more  to 
hinder  my  greater  successes  than  a  multitude  of  others  could  have 
done.  Though  he  was  an  old  man,  of  great  courtship  and  civility, 
and  very  temperate  as  to  diet,  apparel,  and  sports,  and  seldom 
would  swear  louder  than  'by  his  troth,'  etc.,  and  showed  me  much 
personal  reverence  and  respect,  beyond  my  desert,  and  we  con- 
versed together  with  love  and  familiarity ;  yet,  (having  no  relish 
for  this  preciseness,  and  extemporary  praying,  and  making  so  much 
ado  for  heaven ;  nor  liking  that  which  went  beyond  the  pace  of 
saying  the  common  prayer ;  and  also  the  interest  of  himself  and  of 
his  civil  and  ecclesiastical  parties  leading  him  to  be  ruled  by  Dr. 
Hammond,)  his  coming  but  once  a  day  to  church  on  the  Lord's 
days,  and  his  abstaining  from  the  sacrament,  as  if  we  kept  not  suffi- 
ciently to  the  old  way,  and  because  we  used  not  the  common  pray- 
er book  when  it  would  have  caused  us  to  be  sequestered,  did  cause 
a  great  part  of  the  parish  to  follow  him,  and  do  as  he  did,  when  else 
our  success  and  concord  would  have  been  much  more  happy  than 
it  was.  And  yet  his  civility  and  yielding  much  beyond  others  of 
his  party,  sending  his  family  to  be  catechised  and  personally  in- 
structed, did  sway  with  almost  the  worst  among  us,  to  the  like. 
Indeed  we  had  two  other  persons  of  quality.  Col.  John  Bridges, 
and  at  last  Mrs.  Hanmer,  that  came  from  other  places  to  live  there, 
and  were  truly  and  judiciously  religious,  who  did  much  good ;  for 
when  the  rich  are  indeed  religious,  and  overcome  their  temptations, 
as  they  maybe  supposed  better  than  others, because  their  conquest 
is  greater,  so  they  may  do  more  good  than  others,  because  their 
talents  are  more.     But  such  are  always  comparatively  few. 

"  28.  Another  thing  that  helped  me,  was  my  not  meddling  with 
tithes  or  worldly  business,  whereby  I  had  my  whole  time,  except 
what  sickness  deprived  me  of,  for  my  duty,  and  my  mind  more 
free  from  entanglements  than  else  it  would  have  been  ;  and,  also, 
I  escaped  the  offending  of  the  people,  and  contending  by  any  law- 
suits with  them.  I  found  that  nature  itself,  being  conscious  of  the 
baseness  of  its  earthly  disposition,  doth  think  basely  of  those  whom 
it  discerneth  to  be  earthly,  and  is  forced  to  reverence  those  whose 
converse  is  supposed  to  be  most  with  God  and  heaven.  Three  or 
four  of  my  neighbors  managed  all  those  kinds  of  business,  of  whom 
I  never  took  account ;  and  if  any  one  refused  to  pay  his  tithes,  if 
he  was  poor,  I  ordered  them  to  forgive  him.  (After  that,  1  was 
constrained  to  let  the  tithes  be  gathered  as  by  my  title,  to  save  the 


104  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

gatherers  from  lawsuits.)  But  if  the  parties  were  able,  I  ordered 
them  to  seek  it  by  the  magistrate,  with  the  damage,  and  give  both 
my  part  and  the  damages  to  the  poor ;  for  1  resolved  to  have  none 
of  it  myself  that  was  recovered  by  law,  and  yet  I  could  not  tole- 
rate the  sacrilege  and  fraud  of  covetous  men.  When  they  loiew 
that  this  was  the  rule  I  went  by,  none  of  them  that  were  able 
would  do  the  poor  so  great  a  kindness  as  to  deny  the  payment  of 
their  tithes.  In  my  family,  I  had  the  help  of  my  father  and  moth- 
er-in-law, and  the  benefit  of  a  godly,  understanding,  faithful  ser- 
vant, an  ancient  woman,  near  sixty  years  old,  who  eased  me  of  all 
care,  and  laid  out  all  my  money  for  housekeeping ;  so  that  I  never 
had  one  hour's  trouble  about  it,  nor  ever  took  one  day's  account 
of  her  for  fourteen  years  together,  as  being  certain  of  her  fidelity, 
providence,  and  skill. 

"  29.  And  it  much  furthered  my  success,  that  I  staid  still  in 
this  one  place  near  two  years  before  the  wars,  and  above  fourteen 
years  after;  for  he  that  removeth  oft  from  place  to  place,  may 
sow  good  seed  in  many  places,  but  is  not  likely  to  see  much  fixiit 
in  any,  unless  some  other  skilful  hand  shall  follow  him  to  water  it. 
It  was  a  great  advantage  to  me  to  have  almost  all  the  religious 
people  of  the  place,  of  my  own  instructing  and  informing ;  and 
that  they  were  not  formed  into  erroneous  and  factious  principles 
before ;  and  that  I  staid  to  see  them  grow  up  to  some  confirmedness 
and  maturity. 

"  30.  Lastly,  our  successes  were  enlarged  beyond  our  own  con- 
gregations, by  the  lectures  kept  up  round  about.  To  divers  of 
them  I  went  so  oft  as  I  was  able ;  and  the  neighboring  ministers, 
oftener  than  I;  especially  Mr.  Oasland,of  Bewdley,  who,  having 
a  strong  body,  a  zealous  spirit,  and  an  earnest  utterance,  went  up 
and  down  preaching  from  place  to  place,  with  great  acceptance 
and  success.  But  this  business,  also,  we  contrived  to  be  uni- 
versally and  orderly  managed.  For,  beside  the  lectures  set  up  on 
week  days  fixedly,  in  several  places,  we  studied  how  to  have  them 
extend  to  every  place  in  the  county  that  had  need.  For,  when 
the  parliament  purged  the  ministry,  they  cast  out  the  grosser  sort 
of  insufficient  and  scandalous  ones,  such  as  gross  dmnkards  and  such 
like  ;  and  also  some  few  civil  men  that  had  assisted  in  the  wars 
against  the  parliament,  or  set  up  bowing  to  altars,  or  such  innova- 
tions ;  but  they  had  left  in  nearly  one  half  the  ministers,  that  were 
not  good  enough  to  do  much  service,  or  bad  enough  to  be  cast  out 
as  utterly  intolerable.  These  were  a  company  of  poor,  weak 
preachers,  who  had  no  great  skill  m  divinity,  or  zeal  for  godliness ; 
but  preached  weekly  that  which  is  true,  and  lived  in  no  gross,  no- 
torious sin.  These  men  were  not  cast  out,  but  yet  their  people 
greatly  needed  help ;  for  their  dark,  sleepy  preaching  did  but  little 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  105 

good.  We,  therefore,  resolved  that  some  of  the  abler  ministers 
should  often  voluntarily  help  them  ;  but  all  the  care  was  how  to  do 
it  without  oliending  them. 

"  It  fell  out  seasonably,  that  the  Londoners  of  that  county,  at 
their  yearly  feast,  collected  about  thirty  pounds,  and  sent  it  to  me 
by  that  worthy  man,  Mr.  Thomas  Stanley,  of  Bread-street,  to  set 
up  a  lecture  for  that  year.  Whereupon  we  covered  all  our  designs 
under  the  name  of  the  Londoner's  Lecture,  which  took  off  the 
offence.  We  chose  four  worthy  men,  Mr.  Andrew  Tristram, 
Mr.  Henry  Oasland,  Mr.  Thomas  Baldwin,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Treble, 
who  undertook  to  go,  each  man  his  day,  once  a  month,  which  was 
every  Lord's  day  between  the  four,  and  to  preach  at  those  places 
which  had  most  need  twice  on  a  Ix)rd's  day.  To  avoid  all  ill  con- 
sequences and  offence,  they  were  sometimes  to  go  to  abler  men's 
congregations ;  and  wherever  they  came,  to  say  somewhat  always 
to  draw  the  people  to  the  honor  and  special  regard  of  their  own  pas- 
tors, that,  how  weak  soever  they  were,  they  might  see  that  we 
came  not  to  draw  away  the  people's  hearts  from  them,  but  to 
strengthen  their  hands,  and  help  them  in  their  work. 

"  This  lecture  did  a  great  deal  of  good ;  and,  though  the  Lon- 
doners gave  their  money  but  that  one  year,  when  it  was  once  set 
on  foot,  we  continued  it  voluntarily,  till  the  ministers  were  turned 
out,  and  all  these  works  went  down  together. 

"  So  much  of  the  way  and  helps  of  those  successes,  which  I 
mention,  because  many  have  inquired  after  them,  as  willing,  with 
theu"  own  flocks,  to  take  that  course  which  other  men  have  by  ex- 
perience found  to  be  effectual."* 

Such  was  Baxter  as  a  pastor ;  and  such  were  his  successes.  In 
answer  to  the  inquiry  how  far  the  progress  of  religion  in  other  places 
might  be  supposed  to  correspond  with  what  he  testifies  concern- 
ing Kidderminster,  he  says,  "  I  must  bear  this  faithful  witness  to 
those  times,  that,  as  far  as  I  was  acquainted,  where  before  there  was 
one  godly  preacher,  there  were  then  six  or  ten  ;  and,  taking  one 
place  with  another,  I  conjecture  there  was  a  proportionable  increase 
of  truly  godly  people,  not  counting  heretics,  or  perfidious  rebels,  or 
church  disturbers,  as  such.  But  this  increase  of  godliness  was  not 
in  all  places  alike.  For,  in  some  places  where  the  ministers  were 
formal  or  ignorant,  or  weak  or  imprudent,  contentious  or  negligent, 
the  parishes  were  as  bad  as  heretofore.  And- in  some  places,  where 
.  the  ministers  had  excellent  parts  and  holy  lives,  and  thirsted  after 
the  good  of  souls,  and  wholly  devoted  themselves,  their  time,  and 
strength,  and  estates,  ^hereunto,  and  thought  no  pains  or  cost  too 
much,  there  abundance  were  converted  to  serious  godliness.     And 

*  Narrjitive,  Part  I.  pp.  83 — S6. 
VOL.    1.  H 


106  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

with  tliose  of  a  middle  state,  usually  they  had  a  middle  measure  of 
success.  And  I  must  add  this  to  the  true  infonnation  of  posterity ; 
that  God  did  so  wonderfully  bless  the  labors  of  his  unanimous  faith- 
ful ministers,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  faction  of  the  prelatists  on 
one  side,  that  drew  men  off,  and  the  factions  of  the  giddy  and  turbu- 
lent sectaries  on  the  other  side,"  "  together  with  some  laziness  and 
selfishness  in  many  of  the  ministry,  I  say  had  it  not  been  for  these  im- 
pediments, England  had  been  like,  in  a  quarter  of  an  age,  to  have 
become  a  land  of  saints,  and  a  pattern  of  holiness  to  all  the  world, 
and  the  unmatchable  paradise  of  the  earth.  Never  were  such  fair 
opportunities  to  sanctify  a  nation  lost  and  trodden  under  foot,  as 
have  bsen  in  this  land  of  late.  Woe  be  to  them  that  were  the 
causes  of  it !  " 

At  this  time  there  was  no  jurisdiction  exercised,  either  in  or  over 
the  national  church  of  England,  other  than  that  which  was  exercised 
by  the  civil  governm.ent  for  the  time  being.  The  abolition  of  Epis- 
copacy had  not  been  succeeded  by  the  establishment  of  the  Presby- 
terian platform,  or  any  other  national  system.  The  model  framed 
by  the  Westminster  assembly  had  mdeed  been  adopted  in  London  ; 
but  it  wanted  the  sanction  of  law,  and  was  not  received  with  great 
favor  by  either  ministers  or  people.  In  these  circumstances,  the 
pastors  in  Worcestershire  formed  an  association  for  mutual  advice 
and  assistance  in  all  matters  relating  to  their  official  work,  resembling 
very  closely  the  associations  of  the  Congregational  ministers  in  this 
country.  Their  example  was  followed  in  other  parts  of  England. 
In  effecting  this  organization,  Baxter  seems  to  have  had  an  impor- 
tant agency,  both  in  his  own  county  and  elsewhere.  Respecting 
the  men  who  united  in  the  Worcestershire  association,  he  says, 
"  Though  we  made  our  terms  large  enough  for  all.  Episcopal,  Pres- 
byterians and  Independents,  there  was  not  one  Presbyterian*  joined 
with  us  that  I  knew  of,  (for  I  knew  of  but  one  in  all  the  county ;) 
nor  one  Independent,  tliough  two  or  three  honest  ones  said  nothing 
against  us ;  nor  one  of  tlie  new  prelatical  way,  but  three  or  four 
moderate  conformists  that  were  for  the  old  Episcopacy  :  and  all  the 
rest  were  mere  catliolics,  men  of  no  faction,  nor  siding  with  any 
party :  but  owning  that  which  was  good  in  all,  as  far  as  they  could 
discern  it ;  and  upon  a  concord  in  so  much,  laying  themselves  out 
for  the  great  end  of  their  ministry,  the  people's  edification." 

In  this  connection  he  adds  a  few  remarks  on  another  subject, 
which  well  illustrate  the  true  liberality  of  his  own  temper. 
"  The  increase  of  sectaries  among  us,  \\as  much  through  the 
weakness  or  the  faultiness  of  ministers.     Ai^d  it  made  me  reroem- 

*  He  uses  this  word  here  in  the  party  sense  common  in  those  times.  He 
means  men  of  the  Scottisli  party,  zealous  for  the  covenant  and  the  exclusive  di- 
vine right  of  presbytery. 


•  LIFR    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  107 

her  that  sects  have  most  abounded  when  the  gospel  hath  most 
prospered,  and  God  hath  been  doing  the  greatest  works  m  the 
world :  as  first  in  the  apostles'  and  the  primitive  times ;  and  then, 
when  Christian  emperors  were  assisting  the  church  ;  and  then,  when 
reformation  prospered  in  Germany  ;  and  lately  in  New  England, 
where  godliness  most  flourished ;  and  last  of  all,  here,  when  so  pleas- 
ant a  spring  had  raised  all  our  hopes.     And  our  impatience  of 
weak  people's  errors  and  dissent  did  make  the  business  worse ; 
while  every  weak  minister,  that  could  not,  or  would  not,  do  that 
for  his  people,  which  belonged  to  his  place,  was  presently  cry- 
ing out  against  the  magistrates  for  suffering  these  errors,  and  think- 
ing the  sword  must  do  that  which  the  word  should  do.     And  it  is 
a  wicked  thing  in  men  to  desire,  with  the  Papists,  that  the  people 
were  blind  rather  than  purblind,  and  that  they  might  rather  know 
nothing  than  mistake  in  some  few  points ;  and  to  be  more  troubled 
that  a  man  contradicteth  us  in  the  point  of  infant  baptism  or  church 
government,  than  that  many  of  the  people  are  sottishly  careless  of 
their  own  salvation.     He  that  never  regardeth  the  word  of  God, 
is  not  like  to  err  much  about  it.     Men  will  sooner  fall  out  about 
gold  or  pearls,  than  swine  will."* 

In  1654,  probably  in  November,  Baxter  was  called  to  London 
to  be  associated  there  with  several  other  ministers,  as  a  committee 
of  parliament,  to  draw  up  a  statement  of  the  fundamentals  of  reli- 
gion. The  occasion  was  this.  The  constitution  of  the  common- 
wealth provided  that  all,  who  "  professed  faith  in  God  by  Jesus 
Christ,  though  differing  in  judgment  from  the  doctrine,  worship  or 
discipline  publicly  held  forth,  shall  not  be  restrained  from,  but  shall 
be  protected  in,  the  profession  of  their  faith  and  exercise  of  their 
religion,  so  as  they  abuse  not  this  liberty  to  the  injury  of  others  and 
the  actual  disturbance  of  the  public  peace."  In  the  first  parliament 
that  was  convened  under  this  constitution,  the  entire  ''  instrument 
of  government"  was  examined  and  discussed.  On  the  point  of 
religious  liberty,  the  majority  in  parliament  were  evidently  less 
enlightened  than  were  the  men  who  framed  the  constitution.  A 
profession  of  faith  in  God  by  Jesus  Christ,  it  was  said,  im])lied  a 
profession  of  the  fundamentals  of  Christianity  ;  and  therefore  a  large 
committee  was  .appointed  to  consider  what  were  tlie  fundamentals 
of  religion,  and  were  empowered  to  consult  with  such  divines  as  they 
might  choose  for  themselves.  One  of  the  ministers  first  invited  by 
the  committee  to  this  consultation,  was  the  venerable  Archbishop 
Usher ;  and  when  he  had  declined  the  service,  Baxter  was  called 
in  his  room.  Dr.  Owen  was  one  of  the  most  respected  and  able 
members  of  this  committee  of  divines;   and   though  Owen  and 

"Narrative,  Parti,  pp.  %,  07. 


108  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

Baxter  had  previously  had  some  encounters  in  the  way  of  theolo- 
gical discussion  through  the  press,  there  is  reason  to  believe  that 
this  was  the  first  time  these  two  great  and  good  men  ever  came 
together  face  to  face.  Baxter  did  not  arrive  till  the  other  ten 
were  already  at  their  work ;  but  it  soon  appeared  that  he  had 
brought  with  him  views  of  his  own,  and  was  well  prepared  to 
make  them  no  little  trouble. 

"  I  would  'have  had  the  brethren,"  he  says,  "  to  have  offered 
the  parliament  the  creed,  Lord's  prayer,  aiid  decalogue  alone,  as 
our  essentials,  or  fundamentals,  which  at  least  contain  all  that  is 
necessary  to  salvation,  and  have  been  by  all  the  ancient  churches 
taken  for  the  sum  of  their  religion.  And  whereas  they  still  said, 
*  A  Socinian  or  Papist  will  subscribe  all  this,'  I  answered  them, 
'  So  much  the  better,  and  so  much  the  fitter  is  it  to  be  the  matter  of 
our  concord.  But  if  you  are  afraid  of  communion  with  Papists 
and  Socinians,  it  must  not  be  avoided  by  making  a  new  rule  or  test 
of  faith,  which  they  will  not  subscribe  to,  or  by  forcing  others  to 
subscribe  to  more  than  they  can  do,  but  by  calling  them  to  account 
whenever,  in  preaching  or  writing,  they  contradict  or  abuse  the 
truth  to  which  they  have  subscribed.  This  is  the  work  of  govern- 
ment ;  and  we  must  not  think  to  make  laws  serve  instead  of 
judgment  and  execution ;  nor  must  we  make  new  laws  as  oft  as 
heretics  will  misinterpret  and  subscribe  the  old  ;  for  when  you  have 
put  in  all  the  words  you  can  devise,  some  heretics  will  put  their 
own  sense  upon  them,  and  subscribe  them.  And  we  must  not 
blame  God  for  not  making  a  law  that  no  man  can  misinterpret  or 
break ;  and  think  to  make  such  an  one  ourselves,  because  God 
could  not  or  would  not.  These  presumptions  and  errors  have 
divided  and  distracted  the  Christian  churches ;  and  one  would 
think  experience  should  save  us  from  them.' "  * 

This  style  of  arguing,  however,  was  insufficient  to  change  the 
views  with  which  the  committee  had  begun  their  work.  They 
reported  about  twenty  propositions,  as  embracing,  in  their  judg- 
ment, the  fundamentals  of  the  Christian  religion.  "But  tiie 
parliament  was  dissolved,  and  all  came  to  nothing,  and  that  labor 
was  lost."  The  truth  was,  Cromwell  was  determined  to«  adhere, 
as  far  as  possible,  to  the  great  principle  of  religious 'liberty. 

Baxter  was  called  to  London  on  this  business  by  the  influence 
of  Lord  Broghill,  afterwards  earl  of  Orrery,  and  lord  president 
of  Munster,  who  was  then  high  in  the  favor  of  the  protector;  and 
at  the  house  of  this  friend  he  was  entertained  while  he  continued 
in  the  city.  "  At  this  time,"  he  says,  "  the  Lord  Broghill  and 
the  earl  of  Warwick  brought  me  to  preach  before  Cromwell  the 


Narrative,  Part  II.  p.  198. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  109 

protector ;  which  was  the  only  time  that  ever  I  preached  to  him, 
save  once,  long  before,  when  he  was  an  inferior  man  among  other 
auditors.  I  knew  not  which  way  to  provoke  him  better  to  duty, 
than  by  preaching  on  1  Cor.  i.  10,  against  the  divisions  and  dis- 
tractions of  the  church ;  and  showing  how  mischievous  a  thing 
it  was  for  politicians  to  maintain  such  divisions  for  their  own  ends, 
that  they  might  fish  in  troubled  waters,  and  keep  the  church  by  its 
divisions  in  a  state  of  weakness,  lest  it  should  be  able  to  offend 
them;  and  to  show  the  necessity  and  means  of  union.  My  plain- 
ness, I  heard,  was  displeasing  to  him  and  his  courtiers ;  but  they 
put  it  up. 

"  A  while  after,  Cromwell  sent  to  speak  with  me ;  and  when  I 
came,  in  the  presence  of  only  three  of  his  chief  men,  he  began  a 
long  and  tedious  speech  to  me  of  God's  providence  in  the  change 
of  the  government,  and  how  God  had  owned  it,  and  what  great 
things  had  been  done  at  home  and  abroad,  in  the  peace  with  Spain 
and  Holland,  &;c.  When  he  had  wearied  us  all  with  speaking 
thus  slowly  about  an  hour,  I  told  him  it  was  too  great  condescen- 
sion to  acquaint  me  so  fully  with  all  these  matters,  which  were 
above  me ;  but  I  told  him  that  we  took  our  ancient  monarchy  to 
be  a  blessing,  and  not  an  evil  to  the  land ;  and  humbly  craved  his 
patience  that  I  might  ask  him  how  England  had  ever  forfeited  that 
blessing,  and  unto  whom  that  forfeiture  was  made  ?  I  was  fain  to 
speak  of  the  species  of  government  only,  for  it  had  lately  been 
made  treason,  by  law,  to  speak  for  the  person  of  the  king. 

"  Upon  that  question,  he  was  awakened  into  some  passion,  and 
then  told  me  it  was  no  forfeiture,  but  God  had  changed  it  as  pleas- 
ed him  ;  and  then  he  let  fly  at  the  parliament,  which  thwarted  him  ; 
and  especially,  by  name,  at  four  or  five  of  those  meml)ers  who 
were  my  chief  acquaintances,  and  I  presumed  to  defend  them 
against  his  passion  ;  and  thus  four  or  five  hours  were  spent. 

"  A  few  days  after,  he  sent  for  me  again,  to  hear  my  judgment 
about,  liberty  of  conscience,  which  he  pretended  to  be  most  zealous 
for,  before  almost  all  his  privy  council ;  where,  after  another  slow, 
tedious  speech  of  his,  1  told  him  a  little  of  my  judgment.  And 
when  two  of  his  _  company  had  spun  out  a  great  deal  more  of  the 
time  in  such-like  tedious,  but  more  ignorant  speeches,  some  four  or 
five  hours  being  spent,  I  told  him  that  if  he  would  be  at  the  labor 
to  read  it,  I  could  tell  him  more  of  my  mind  in  writing  in  two 
sheets,  than  in  that  way  of  speaking  in  many  days ;  and  that  1  had 
a  paper  on  the  subject  by  me,  written  for  a  friend,  which,  if  he 
would  peruse,  and  allow  for  the  change  of  jierson,  he  would  know 
my  sense.  He  received  the  paper  afterwards,  but  I  scarcely  be- 
lieve that  he  ever  read  it ;  for  I  saw  that  what  he  learned  must  be 
from  himself;  being  more  disposed  to  speak  many  hours,  than  to 


110  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

hear  one ;  and  little  heeding  what  another  said,  wnen  he  had 
spoken  himself." 

"In  this  time  of  my  abode  at  the  Lord  Broghill's,  fell  out  all 
the  acquaintance  I  had  with  the  most  reverend,  learned,  humble, 
and  pious  primate  of  Ireland,  Archbishop  Usher,  then  living  at 
the  earl  of  Peterborough's  house,  in  Martin's  lane.  Sometimes 
he  came  to  me,  and  oft  I  went  to  him."  "  In  this  time,  I  opened 
to  him  the  motions  of  concord  which  I  had  made  with  the  Epis- 
copal divines,  and  desired  his  judgment  of  my  terms,  which  were 
these :  1.  That  every  pastor  be  the  governor  as  well  as  the  teacher 
of  his  flock.  2.  In  those  parishes  that  have  more  presbyters 
than  one,  that  one  be  the  stated  president.  3.  That  in  every 
market  town,  or  some  such  meet  divisions,  there  be  frequent  as- 
semblies of  parochial  pastors,  associated  for  concord  and  mutual  as- 
sistance in  their  work ;  and  that  in  these  meetings  one  be  a  stated, 
not  a  temporary  president.  4.  That  in  every  county  or  diocese, 
there  be,  every  year,  or  half  year,  or  quarter,  an  assembly  of  all 
the  ministers  of  the  county  or  diocese ;  and  that  they  also  have 
their  fixed  president;  and  that  in  ordination,  nothing  be  done  with- 
out the  .president,  nor  in  matters  of  common  or  public  concern- 
ment. 5.  That  the  coercive  power  or  sword  be  meddled  with  by 
none  but  magistrates.  To  this  sense  were  my  proposals,  which  he 
told  me  might  suffice  for  peace  and  unity  among  moderate  men  ; 
but  when  he  had  offered  the  like  to  the  king,  intemperate  men 
were  displeased  with  him,  and  they  were  rejected,  but  afterwards 
would  have  been  accepted;  and  such  success  I  was  like  to  have." 

"  I  asked  him  also  his  judgment  about  the  validity  of  presbyters' 
ordination ;  which  he  asserted,  and  told  me,  that  the  king  asked 
him  at  the  Isle  of  Wight,  wherever  he  found  in  antiquity  that  pres- 
byters alone  ordained  any,  and  that  he  answered,  '  I  can  show  your 
majesty  more,  even  where  presbyters  alone  successively  ordained 
bishops,'  and  instanced  in  Jerome's  words  of  the  presbyters  of 
Alexandria  choosing  and  making  their  own  bishops,  from  the  days 
of  Mark  till  Heraclus  and  Dionysius.  1  also  asked  him  wliether 
the  paper  be  his,  which  is  called  '  A  Reduction  of  Episcopacy  to 
the  Form  of  Synodical  Government ;'  which  he  owned. 

"And  of  his  own  accord  he  told  me  confidently,  'that  synods 
are  not  properly  for  government,  but  for  agreement  among  the 
pastors ;  and  a  synod  of  bishops  are  not  the  governors  of  any  one 
bishop  there  present.'  Though  no  doubt  but  every  pastor  cut  of 
the  synod  being  a  mler  of  his  flock,  a  synod  of  such  pastors  may 
there  exercise  acts  of  government  over  their  flocks,  though  they 
be  but  acts  of  agreement  or  contract  for  concord  one  towards 
another."* 

"  Narrntivp.  Pa'f  TT    nn   OOR   OOfi 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  Ill 

While  he  was  thus  employed  m  London,  he  preached  occasion- 
ally to  crowded  assemblies  in  several  churches  of  the  metropolis^ 
once  at  St.  Paul's  before  the  mayor  and  aldermen.  One  of  his 
sermons  was  taken  down,  in  part,  as  it  fell  from  his  lips,  and  was 
thus  published;  and  after  his  return  to  his  own  parish,  he  was 
importuned  by  many  letters  to  publish  others.  In  several  in- 
stances, he  comphed  with  these  requests. 

A  favorite  hope  of  Baxter,  and  one  on  which  he  expended, 
during  these  years,  no  small  portion  of  his  prodigious  industry,  was 
the  hope  of  seeing  a  reconciliation  and  visible  union  among  evan- 
gelical Christians  of  different  denominations.  The  spirit  of  secta- 
rianism and  division ;  the  spirit  of  -exclusion  which  builds  up  a 
middle  wall  of  partition  in  the  church  of  God;  and  which  raises, 
among  the  multitude  of  those  who  should  own  no  master  but 
Christ,  the  clamor,  "  I  am  of  Paul,  and  I  of  Apollos,  and  I  of 
Cephas,"  was  a  spirit  with  which  the  large  and  catholic  mind  of 
Richard  Baxter  could  have  no  sympathy.  He  saw  that  the  points 
on  which  the  evangelical  Christians  of  his  day  were  agreed,  were 
infinitely  more  important  than  the  points  on  which  they  differed ; 
and  he  felt  that,  while  they  continued  to  divide  from  each  other, 
they  would  continue  to  treat  with  comparative  neglect  the  great 
truths  on  which  they  built  their  commoin  hopes,  and  to  attach  dis- 
proportionate importance  to  their  several  distinctive  principles. 
He  himself  belonged  to  no  party.  He  thought  for  himself  on 
every  subject  of  controversy ;  and  he  saw,  or  thought  he  saw, 
in  regard  to  many  of  the  controversies  of  his  day,  the  peculiar 
errors  and  peculiar  truths  of  each  opposing  party.  It  seemed  to 
him  that  men  who  were  so  near  together  might  be  brought  to  a 
hearty  fellowship,  and  to  a  happy  co-operation  for  the  advance- 
ment of  a  common  cause.  He  has  left  on  record  a  long  history 
of  his  labors  in  behalf  of  unity  and  catholic  communion  among. 
Christians,  including  a  voluminous  correspondence  with  distinguish- 
ed men  of  different  parties.  The  particulars  of  these  efforts  hardly 
come  within  the  design  of  this  narrative ;  yet  we  may  gatlier  from 
that  part  of  what  he  has  written  concerning  his  own  life  and  times, 
a  few  things  which  could  hardly  be  omitted  here,  consistently  with 
justice  to  his  character  as  a  Christian,  and  as  a  minister  of  the 
gospel. 

The  principal  parties  of  those  days,  in  the  disputes  respecting 
the  constitution  and  government  of  the  church,  were  the  Erastians, 
the  Diocesans,  the  Presbyterians,  and  the  Independents.*  Baxter 
belonged,  strictly,  to  none  of  them ;  though  generally  he  acted 
with  the  Presbyterians,  and  was  high  in  their  confidence,  in  so 

*  Some  account  of  these  parties  lias  already  been  given.     Sec  pp.  Gl ,  Go. 


112  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

much  that  Wood,  the  high-church  Oxford  historian,  calls  him  "  tlge 
pride  of  the  Presbyterian  party."  His  mind  was  too  enlarged  and 
independent,  too  sensible  of  the  paramount  importance  of  peace 
and  fellowship  among  Christians,  to  be  enlisted  for  better  and  for 
worse  with  any  of  the  violent  parties  of  a  violent  age.  Moved 
by  the  excitement  and  debate  which  he  could  not  but  see  and 
hear,  he  set  himself  to  the  most  serious  study  of  the  disputed 
points ;  "  the  result  of  which  was,"  to  use  his  own  words,  "  this 
confident  and  settled  judgment,  that  of  the  four  contending  parties, 
each  one  had  some  truths  in  peculiar  which  the  others  overlooked, 
or  took  little  notice  of,  and  each  one  had  their  proper  mistakes 
which  gave  advantage  to  their  adversaries ;  though  all  of  them  had 
so  much  truth  in  common  among  them,  as  would  have  made  these 
kingdoms  happy,  if  it  had  been  unanimously  and  soberly  reduced 
to  practice,  by  pmdent  and  charitable  men. 

"  The  Erastians,  I  thought,  were  thus  far  in  the  right,  in  assert- 
ing more  fully  than  others  the  magistrates'  power  in  matters  ol 
religion  ;  that  all  coercive  power  by  mulcts  or  force  is  only  in  their 
hands ;  and  that  no  such  power  belongeth  to  the  pastors  or  people 
of  the  church ;  and  that  thus  there  should  not  be  any  coercive 
power  challenged  by  pope,  prelate,  presbytery,  or  any,  but  by  the 
magistrate  alone ;  that  the  pastoral  power  is  only  persuasive,  or 
exercised  or)  volunteers."  "  But  though  the  Diocesans,  and  the 
Presbyterians  of  Scotland,  who  had  laws  to  enable  them,  opposed 
this  doctrine,  or  the  party  at  least,  yet  I  perceived  that  it  was  but 
on  the  ground  of  their  civil  advantages,  as  the  magistrate  had 
impowered  them  by  his  laws."  "  The  generality  of  each  party 
indeed  owned  this  doctrine ;  and  I  could  speak  with  no  sober, 
judicious  Prelatist,  Presbyterian,  or  Independent,  but  confessed  that 
no  secular  or  forcing  power  belonged  to  any  pastors  of  the  church, 
as  such ;  and  unless  the  magistrate  authorized  them  as  his  officers, 
they  could  not  touch  men's  bodies  or  estates,  but  the  conscience 
alone,  which  can  be  of  none  but  assenters. 

"  The  Episcopal  party  seemed  to  have  reason  on  their  side  in 
this,  that,  in  the  primitive  church,  there  were  some  apostles,  evan- 
gelists, and  others,  who  were  general  unfixed  officers  of  the  church, 
not  tied  to  any  particular  charge,  and  had  some  superiority,  some 
of  them,  over  fixed  bishops  or  pastors.  And  though  the  extraor- 
dinary parts  of  the  apostles'  office  ceased  with  them,  I  saw  no  proof 
of  the  ces'sation  of  any  ordinary  part  of  their  office,  such  as  church 
government  is  confessed  to  be.  All  the  doubt  that  I  saw  in  this, 
was,  whether  the  apostles  themselves  were  constituted  governors 
of  other  pastors,  or  only  overruled  them  by  the  eminency  of  their 
gifts  and  privilege  of  infallibility.  For  it  seemed  to  me  unmeet  to 
affirm,  without  proof,  that  Christ  settled  a  form  of  government  in 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  113 

his  church  to  endure  only  for  one  age,  and  changed  it.  for  a  new 
one  when  that  age  was  ended." 

"  And  as  for  the  Presbyterians,  I  found  that  the  office  of  preach- 
ing presbyters  was  allowed  by  all  that  deserve  the  name  of  Chris- 
tians, and  that  this  office  did  participate,  subserviently  to  Christ, 
of  the  prophetical  or  teaching,  the  priestly  or  worshiping,  and  the 
governing  power;  and  that  scripture,  antiquity,  and  the  persua- 
sive nature  of  church  government,  clearly  show  that  all  presbyters 
w^ere  church  governors  as  well  as  church  teachers ;  and  that  to 
deny  this  was  to  destroy  the  office,  and  to  endeavor  to  destroy  the 
churches.  And  I  saw  in  scripture,  antiquity,  and  reason,  that  the 
association  of  pastors  and  churches  for  agreement,  and  their  synods 
in  cases  of  necessity,  are  a  plain  duty ;  and  that  their  ordinary 
stated  synods  are  usually  very  convenient. 

"  And  I  saw  that,  in  England,  the  persons  which  were  called 
Presbyterians,  were  eminent  for  learning,  sobriety,  and  piety ,  and 
the  pastors,  so  called,  were  they  that  went  through  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  in  diligent,  serious  preaching  to  the  people,  and  edifying 
men's  souls,  and  keeping  up  religion  in  the  land. 

"  And  for  the  Independents,  I  saw  that  most  of  them  were  zeal- 
ous, and  very  many  learned,  discreet,  and  godly  men,  and  fit  to  be 
very  serviceable  in  the  church..  And  I  found  in  the  search  of 
scripture  and  antiquity,  that,  in  the  beginning,  a  governed  church, 
and  a  stated  worshiping  church,  were  all  one,  and  not  two  seve- 
ral things  ;  and  that  though  there  might  be  other  by-meetings,  in 
places  like  our  chapels  or  private  houses,  for  such  as  age  or  perse- 
cution hindered  to  come  to  the  more  solemn  meetings,  yet  churches 
then  were  no  bigger  in  number  of  persons  than  our  parishes  now, 
to  grant  the  most ;  and  that  they  were  societies  of  Christians 
united  for  personal  communion,  and  not  only  for  communion  by 
meetings  of  officers  and  delegates  in  synods.  And  I  saw  if  once 
we  go  beyond  the  bounds  of'  personal  commmiion,'  as  the  end  of 
particular  churches,  in  the  definition,  we  may  make  a  church  of  a 
nation,  or  often  nations,  or  what  we  please,  which  shall  haVe  none 
of  the  nature  and  ends  of  the  primitive  particular  churches.  Also 
1  saw  a  commendable  care  of  serious  holiness  and  discipline  in 
most  of  the  Independent  churches.  And  I  found  that  some 
Episcopal  men  (as  Bishop  Usher  did  voluntarily  i)rofess  his  judg- 
ment to  me)  did  hold  that  every  bishop  was  independent  as  to 
synods,  and  that  synods  were  not  proper  governors  of  the  particu- 
lar bishops,  but  only  for  their  concord. 

"  And  for  the  Anabaptists  themselves,  (though  1  have  written 
and  said  so  much  against  them,)  as  I  found  that  most  of  them  were 
persons  of  zeal  in  religion,  so  wowy  of  them  were  sober,  godly 

VOL.  I.  15 


114  LIFI    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

peoplej  and  differed  from  others  but  in  the  point  of  infant  baptism, 
or  at  most  in  the  points  of  predestination  and  free-will  and  perse- 
verance, as  the  Lutherans  from  the  Calvinists,  and  the  A.rminians 
from  the  Contra-remonstrants.  And  I  found  in  all  antiquity,  that 
though  infant  baptism  was  held  lawful  by  the  church,  yet  some, 
with  Tertullian  and  Nazienzen,  thought  it  most  convenient  to  make 
no  haste,  and  the  rest  left  the  time  of  baptism  to  everyone's  liber- 
ty." "  So  that,  in  the  primitive  church,  some  were  baptized  in  in- 
fancy, and  some  a  little  before  their  death,  and  none  were  forced, 
but  all  left  free.'^ 

"  As  to  doctrinal  differences  also,  I  soon  perceived  that  it  was 
hard  to  find  a  man  that  discerned  the  true  statft  of  the  several  con- 
troversies ;  and  that  when  unrevealed  points,  uncertain  to  all,  were 
laid  aside,  and  the  controversies  about  words  were  justly  separated 
from  the  controversies  about  things,  the  differences  about  things, 
which  remained,  were  fewer  and  smaller  than  most  of  the  contend- 
ers perceived  or  would  believe."  "'  What  I  began  to  write  about 
any  of  these  doctrinal  differences,  I  will  now  p^ss  by ;  because  it 
is  not  such  differences  that  I  am  now  to  speak  of. 

"  I  perceived,  then,  that  every  party  before  mentioned,  having 
Some  truth  or  good  in  which  it  was  more  eminent  than  the  rest,  it 
was  no  impossible  thing  to  separate  all  that  from  the  error  and  the 
evil ;  and  that,  among  all  the  truths  which  they  held,  either  in  common 
or  in  controversy,  there  was  no  contradiction ;  and  therefore  he  that 
would  promote  the  welfare  of  the  church  must  do  his  best  to  pro- 
mote all  the  truth  and  good  which  was  held  by  every  part,  and  to 
leave  out  all  their  errors  and  their  evil,  and  not  to  take  up  all  that 
any  party  had  espoused  as  their  own. 

"  The  things  which  I  disliked  as  erroneous  or  evil  in  each  party 
were  these : 

"  In  the  Erastians,  I  disliked,  1.  That  they  made  too  light  of  the 
power  of  the  ministry  and  church,  and  of  excommunication."  "  2. 
That  they  make  the  articles  of  '  the  holy  catholic  church '  and 
'  the  cOtnmunion  of  saints '  too  insignificant,  by  making  church  com- 
munion more  common  to  the  impenitent  than  Christ  would  have  it, 
and  so  dishonored  Christ  by  dishonoring  his  church."  _"  3.  That 
ihey  misunderstood  and  injured  their  brethren,  supposing  and  af- 
fimiing  them  to  claim  as  from  God  a  coercive  power  over  the 
bodies  and  purses  of  men,  and  so  setting  up  imperium  in  imperio; 
whereas  all  temperate  Christians  confess  that  the  church  hath  no 
power  of  force,  but  only  to  manage  God's  word  unto  men's  con- 
sciences. 

"  In  the  Diocesan  party  I  utterly  disliked, 

*'  1.  Their  extirpation  of  the  true  discipline  of  Christ,  as  we  con- 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  115 

celve,  by  consequence,  though  not  intentionally ;  not  only  as  they 
omitted  it,  and  corrupted  it,  but  as  their  principles  and  church  state 
had  made  it  impracticable  and  impossible." 

"2.  That  hereby  they  altered  the  species  of  churches,  and 
either  would  deface  all  particular  churches,  and  have  none  but  as- 
sociated diocesan  churches,  who  hold  communion  by  delegates, 
and  not  personally,  or  else  they  would  turn  all  the  particular  paro- 
chial churches  into  Christian  oratories  and  schools,  while  they 
gave  their  pastors  but  a  teaching  and  worshiping  power,  and  not  a 
governing. 

"  3.  That  hereby  they  altered  the  ancient  species  of  presby- 
ters, to  whose  office  the  spiritual  government  of  their  proper 
flocks  as  truly  belonged,  as  the  power  of  preaching  and  worship- 
ing God. 

"4.  That  they  extinguished  the  ancient  species  of  bishops, 
which  was  in  the  times  of  Ignatius,  when  every  church  had  one  altar 
and  one  bishop." 

He  adds  many  other  particulars,  such  as  their  setting  up  secular 
courts,  their  vexing  honest  Christians  that  could  not  worship  by 
their  ceremonies,  their  permitting  ignorant  drunken  readers  to  oc- 
cupy the  place  of  pastors  in  abundance  of  churches,  their  excessive 
zeal  for  fomialities  and  ceremonies,  and  the  general  tendency  of 
their  spirit  and  measures  to  the  suppression  of  godliness,  and  the  in- 
crease of  ignorance  and  profaneness, 

"In  the  Presbyterian  way  1  disliked, 

"  1.  Their  order  of  lay  elders,  who  had  no  ordination,  nor  power 
to  preach,  nor  to  administer  sacraments.  For  though  I  grant  that 
lay  elders,  or  the  chief  of  the  people,  were  oft  employed  to  express 
the  people's  consent  and  preserve  their  liberties,  yet  these  were  no 
church  officers  at  all,  nor  had  any  charge  of  private  oversight  of 
the  flocks.  And  though  I  grant  that  one  church  had  oft  more  el- 
ders than  did  use  to  preach,  and  that  many  were  most  employed  in 
private  oversight,  yet  that  was  but  a  prudent  dividing  of  their  work 
according  to  the  gifts  and  parts  of  each,  and  not  that  any  elders 
wanted  power  of  office  to  preach  or  administer  sacraments  when 
there  was  cause. 

"  2.  And  I  disliked,  also,  the  course  of  some  of  the  more  rigid 
of  them,  who  drew  too  near  the  way  of  prelacy,  by  grasping  at  a 
kind  of  secular  power;  not  using  it  themselves,  but  binding  the  ma- 
gistrates to  confiscate  or  imprison  men,  merely  because  they  were 
excommunicated ;  and  so  corrupting  the  true  discipline  of  the 
church,  and  turning  the  communion  of  saints  into  the  communion 
of  the  multitude,  who  must  keep  in  the  church  against  their  wills 
for  fear  of  being  undone  in  the  world.  Whereas,  a  man  whose  con- 
science cannot  feel  a  just  excommunication  imless  it  be  barked  with 


116  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

confiscation  or  imprisonment,  is  no  fitter  to  be  a  member  of  a  Chris- 
tian church,  than  a  corpse  is  to  be  a  member  of  a  corporation.  It 
is  true  they  claim  not  this  power  as  jure  divino ;  but  no  more  do 
the  prelates,  though  the  writ  de  excommunicato  capiendo  is  the  life 
of  all  their  censures.  But  both  parties  too  much  debase  the  ma- 
gistrate, by  making  him  their  mere  executioner;  whereas  he  is  the 
judge  wherever  he  is  the  executioner,  and  is  to  try  each  cause  at 
his  own  bar,  before  he  be  obliged  to  punish  any.  They  also  cor- 
rupt the  discipline  of  Christ,  by  mixing  it  with  secular  force. 
They  reproach  the  keys  or  ministerial  power,  as  if  it  were  a  leaden 
sword,  and  not  worth  a  straw,  unless  the  magistrate's  sword  enforce 
it.  What,  then,  did  the  primitive  church  for  three  hundred  years? 
And  worst  of  all,  they  corrupt  the  church,  by  forcing  in  the  rabble 
of  the  unfit  and  the  unwilling ;  and  thereby  tempt  many  godly 
Christians  to  schisms  and  dangerous  separations."  "  Till  magis- 
trates keep  the  sword  themselves,  and  learn  to  deny  it  to  every 
angry  clergyman  who  would  do  his  own  work  by  it,  and  leave  them 
to  their  own  weapons — the  word  and  spiritual  keys — and  valeant 
quantum  valere  possunt — the  church  will  never  have  unity  and 
peace. 

"3.  And  I  disliked  some  of  the  Presbyterians,  that  they  were 
not  tender  enough  to  dissenting  brethren ;  but  too  much  against 
liberty,  as  others  were  too  much  for  it ;  and  thought  by  votes  and 
numbers  to  do  that  which  love  and  reason  should  have  done." 

A  fourth  objection,  m  Baxter's  mind,  against  the  Presbyterians, 
was,  that,  "  in  their  practice,  they  w^ould  have  so  settled  it,  that  a 
worshiping  church  and  a  governed  church  should  nowhere  be  the 
same  thing ;  but  ten  or  twelve  worshiping  churches  should  have 
made  one  governed  church,  which  prepared  the  way  to  the  diocesan 
frame." 

His  objections  to  the  system  of  the  Independents  were,  in  his 
own  words, 

"1.  They  made  too  light  of  ordination. 

"  2.  They  also  had  their  office  of  lay-eldership. 

"3.  They  were  commonly  stricter  about  the  qualification  of 
church  members  than  scripture,  reason,  or  the  practice  of  the  uni- 
versal church,  would  allow." 

"  4.  I  disliked,  also,  the  lamentable  tendency  of  this  their  way  to 
divisions  and  subdivisions,  and  the  nourishing  of  heresies  and  sects. 

"  5.  But  above  all,  I  disliked  that  most  of  them  made  the  people 
by  majority  of  votes  to  be  church  governors,  in  excommunications, 
absolutions,  etc.,  which  Christ  hath  made  to  be  an  act  of  office  ;  and 
so  they  governed  their  governors  and  themselves. 

"  6.  Also  they  too  much  exploded  synods,  refusing  them  as 
stated,  and  admitting  them  but  on  some  extraordinary  occasions. 


AH. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  117 

"  7.  Also  they  were  over-rigid  against  the  admission  of  Chris- 
tians of  other  churches  to  their  communion. 

"  8.  And  1  dishked  their  making  a  minister  to  be  as  no  minister 
to  any  but  his  own  flock,  and  to  act  to  others  but  as  a  private  man  ; 
witli  divers  other  such  irregularities,  and  dividing  opinions ;  many 
of  which,  the  moderation  of  the  New  England  synod  hath  of  late 
corrected  and  disowned,  and  so  done  very  much  to  heal  these 
breaches. 

"And  for  the  Anabaptists,  I  knew  that  they  mjudiciously  ex- 
cluded- the  infants  of  the  faithful  from  solemn  entrance  into  the 
covenant  and  church  of  God,  and  as  sinfully  made  their  opinion 
a  ground  of  their  separation  from  the  churches  and  communion  of 
their  brethren ;  and  that  among  them  grew  up  the  weeds  of  many 
errors ;  and  divisions,  subdivisions,  reproach  of  ministers,  faction 
and  pride,  and  scandalous  practices  were  fomented  in  their  way."* 
With  these  views  of  the  principles  and  characters  of  the  several 
evangelical  denominations  of  his  day,  he  thought  himself  called  to 
some  special  efforts  for  the  promotion  of  peace  and  catholic  com- 
munion. He  made  it  a  great  object  to  bring  all  these  parties  of 
Christians  to  see  distinctly  that  the  points  on  which  they  all  agreed 
were  not  only  more  numerous  and  more  important  than  the  points 
on  which  they  differed,  but  were  also  such  as  to  afford  ample 
ground  for  mutual  fellowship  and  co-operation. 

He  soon  found,  however,  that,  besides  the  diversity  of  men's 
opinions  and  principles,  there  were  other  and  more  serious  obsta- 
cles in  the  way  of  his  success.  Otie  hindrance  he  found  "  in 
men's  company,  and  another  in  their  se'eming  interest,  and  the 
chiefest  of  all  in  the  disposition  and. quality  of  their  minds." 

Respecting  these  three  great  hindrances,  he  says,  ''  Some,  that 
were  most  conversant  with  sober,  peaceable,  experienced  men, 
and  were  under  the  care  of  peaceable  ministers,  I  found  very  much 
inclined  to  charity  and  peace.  But  multitudes  of  them  conversed 
most  with  ignorant,  proud,  unexperienced,  passionate,  uncharitable 
persons,  who  made'it  a  part  of  their  zeal  and  ingenuity  to  break  a 
jest  in  reproach  and  scorn  of  them  that  differed  from  them  ;  and 
who  were  ordinarily  backbiters,  and  bold,  unrighteous  censurers  of 
others,  before  they  well  understood  them,  or  ever  heard  them  give 
a  reason  of  their  judgments.  And  the  hearing  and  conversing  with 
such  persons  as  these  doth  powerfully  dispose  n)en  to  the  same 
disease,  and  to  sin  impenitenily  after  their  example.  Especially, 
when  men  are  incorporated  into  a  sect  or  uncharitable  party,  and 
have  captivated  themselves  to  a  human  servitude  in  religion,  and 

*  Narrative,  ?art  II.  pp.  139—144. 


118  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

given  up  themselves  to  the  will  of  men,  the  stream  will  bear  down 
the  plainest  evidence,  and  carry  them  to  the  foulest  errors. 

"  And  as  it  is  carnal  interest  that  ndeth  the  carnal  world,  so  I 
found  that,  among  selfish  men,  there  were  as  many  interests  and 
ends  as  persons ;  and  every  one  had  an  interest  of  his  own  which 
governed  him,  and  set  him  at  a  very  great  enmity  to  the  most 
necessary  means  of  peace.  I  found,  also,  that  every  man  that 
had  once  given  up  himself  to  a  party,  and  dro^\'ned  himself  in  a 
faction,  did  make  the  interests  of  that  faction  or  party  to  be  his 
own.  And  the  interest  of  Christianity,  Catholicism  and  charity, 
is  contrary  to  the  interests  of  sects  as  such.  And  it  is  the  nature 
of  a  sectary,  that  he  preferreth  the  interest  of  his  opinion,  sect,  or 
party,  before  the  interest  of  Christianity,  Catholicism,  and  charity, 
and  will  sacrifice  the  latter  to  the  service  of  the  former. 

"  But  the  grand  impediment  I  found  in  the  temper  of  men's 
minds ;  and  there  I  perceived  a  manifold  difference.  Among  all 
these  parties,  I  found  that  some  were  naturally  of  mild,  and  calm, 
and  gentle  dispositions,  and  some  of  sour,  froward,  passionate, 
peevish,  or  furious  natures.  Some  were  young,  and  raw,  and  unex- 
perienced, and,  like  young  fruit,  sour  and  harsh  ;  addicted  to  pride 
of  their  own  opinions,  to  self-conceitedness,  turbulency,  censori- 
ousness,  and  temerity,  and  to  engage  themselves  to  a  party  before 
they  understood  the  matter ;  and  were  led  about  by  those  teachers 
and  books  that  had  once  won  their  highest  esteem,  judging  of  ser- 
mons and  persons  by  their  fervency  more  than  by  the  soundness  of 
the  matter  and  the  cause.  And  some  I  found,  on  the  other  side,  to 
be  ancient  and  experienced  Christians,  that  had  tried  the  spirits, 
and  seen  what  was  of  God  and  what  of  man,  and  noted  the  events 
of  both  in  the  world ;  and  these  were  like  ripe  fruit,  mellow  and 
sweet,  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be  entreated,  full 
of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality  and  without  hypocrisy, 
who,  being  makers  of  peace,  did  sow  the  fmits  of  righteousness  in 
peace.  I  began,  by  experience,  to  understand  the  meaning  of 
those  words  of  Paul,  1  Tim.  iii.  6,  'Not  a  novice,  lest,  being  lifted 
up  with  pride,  he  fall  into  the  condemnation  of  the  devil.'  Novices, 
that  is,  young,  raw,  unexperienced  Christians,  are  much  apter  to  be 
proud,  and  censorious,  and  factious,  than  old,  experienced,  judicious 
Christians. 

"  But  the  difference  between  the  godly  and  the  ungodly,  the 
spiritual  and  carnal  worshipers  of  God,  was  here  the  most  consid- 
erable of  all.  An  humble,  holy,  upright  soul,  is  sensible  of  the 
interest  of  Christ  and  souls ;  and  a  gracious  person  is  ever  a  char- 
itable person,  and  loveth  his  neighbor  as  himself;  and  therefore 
judgeth  of  him  as  he  would  be  judged  of  himself,  and  speaketh  of 


LlFK    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER  119 

him  as  he  would  be  spoken  of  himself,  and  useth  him  as  lie  would 
be  used  himself;  and  it  is  against  his  charitable  inclination  to 
disagree  or  separate  from  his  brethren."  "  And  it  is  easy  to  bring 
such  persons  to  agreement,  at  least  to  live  in  charitable  communion. 
But,  on  the  other  side,  the  carnal,  selfish,  and  unsanctified,  of  what 
party  or  opinion  soever,  have  a  nature  that  is  quite  against  holy 
concord  and  peace.  They  want  that  love  which  is  the  natural 
balsam  for  the  churches'  wounds.  They  are  every  one  selfish, 
and  ruled  by  self-interest,  and  have  as  many  ends  and  centers  of 
their  desires  and  actions  as  thfey  are  individual  men."  "  These, 
and  many  more  impediments,  do  rise  up  agamst  all  conciliatory 
endeavors."* 

To  follow  the  peace-maker  through  all  the  details  of  his  efforts 
in  behalf  of  union,  would  carry  us  beyond  the  prescribed  lunits  of 
this  narrative.  Sectarians  were  too  numerous  then,  among  Chris- 
tians of  every  name,  to  pemiit  the  consummation  of  such  hopes  as 
Baxter  seems  to  have  cherished.  Selfish  men,  men  of  ecclesias- 
tical ambition,  men  of  defective  piety,  and  men  of  narrow  minds, 
have  always  had,  and  for  some  time  to  come  will  doubtless  continue 
to  have,  in  the  visible  church,  influence  enough  to  keep  up,  in 
spite  of  the  prayers  and  endeavors  of  peace-makers,  the  spirit  of 
jealousy  and  party  strife,  among  those  who,  notwithstanding  all 
their  divisions,  have  still  one  Lord,  one  faith,  and  one  baptism. 

But  though  he  failed  to  accomplish  all. the  good  which  he  de- 
sired, his  efforts  in  behalf  of  this  great  object  were  not  lost ;  for 
indeed  the  God  of  peace  will  never  permit  any  sincere  endeavor 
in  such  a  cause  to  be  utterly  in  vain.  The  Worcestershire  asso- 
ciation of  pastors,  of  which  mention  has  already  been  made.f  and 
the  many  similar  associations  which  were  formed  cotemporaneously 
in  other  parts  of  England,  ow^ed  their  origin,  in  a  great  measure, 
to  the  pacificatory  labors  of  Baxter.  By  these  associations  for 
mutual  counsel  and  free  fraternal  discussion,  the  attention  of  hun- 
dreds of  pastors  was  turned  from  strivings  and  questions  of  little 
profit,  to  the  great  business  of  their  ministry,  to  the  conversion  and 
sanctification  of  their  hearers.  Thus,  too,  the  progress  of  division 
was  in  some  degree  hindered.  The  voice  of  God's  truth,  that  had 
been,  as  it  were,  half-drowned  in  the  clamor  of  ecclesiastical  as  well 
as  civil  factions,  began  to  be  heard  in  a  louder  and  clearer  tone  ; 
and  the  churches,  enjoying  a  brief  season  of  something  like  rest, 
"  were  edified,  and  walking  in  the  fear  of  God  and  in  the  comfort 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  were  multiplied."  Such  was,  at  that  time, 
the  success  of  that  good  man's  labors  to  bring  about  a  union  among 
Christians   on  the   ground  of  mutual  toleration  and  fireedom  of 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  144, 145.  1  See  pp.  105,  JOH. 


120  LIFE    OF   RICHARD   BAXTER. 

opinion.  But  who  can  say  that  the  immediate  result  was  all? 
Who  can  say  how  many,  in  succeeding  ages,  having  read  the  record 
of  what  he  did,  have  been  moved  in  their  several  spheres  to  do  like- 
wise ?  And  if,  by  this  brief  exhibition  of  his  spirit  and  example, 
any,  in  these  days,  should  be  awakened  to  the  more  lively  exercise 
of  a  kindred  spirit,  and  encouraged  in  similar  efforts,  it  will  afford  an 
additional  illustration  of  the  truth  that,  under  the  providence  of  the 
God  of  peace,  no  such  endeavor  will  utterly  fail  of  its  success  here, 
any  more  than  it  can  fail  of  its  reward  hereafter. 

But,  while  Baxter  was  so  intent  on  peace,  he  was  not  willing  -to 
sit  still,  and  see  either  error,  or  sectarian  and  dividing  principles, 
propagated  in  his  own  parish  to  the  perversion  of  his  people. 
When  contention  was  inevitable,  he  showed  himself  ready  to  con- 
tend effectually.  Respecting  a  controversy  which  he  had  with  a 
zealous  and  able  Baptist  brother,  he  gives  the  following  statement. 

"  Mr.  Tombes,  who  was  my  neighbor,  within  two  miles,  deny- 
ing infant  baptism,  and  having  written  a  book  or  two  against  it,  was 
not  a  little  desirous  of  the  propagation  of  his  opinion,  and  the  suc- 
cess of  his  writings.  He  thought  that  I  was  the  chief  hinderer, 
though  I  never  meddled  with  the  point.  Whereupon  he  came 
constantly  to  my  weekly  lectures,  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to 
fall  upon  that  controversy  in  his  conference  with  me ;  but  I  studi- 
ously avoided  it,  so  that  he  knew  not  how  to  begin.  He  had  so 
high  a  conceit  of  his  writings,  that  he  thought  them  unanswerable, 
and  that  none  could  deal  with  him  in  that  way.  At  last,  somehow, 
he  urged  me  to  give  my  judgment  of  them ;  when  I  let  him  know 
that  they  did  not  satisfy  me  to  be  of  his  mind,  but  went  no  further 
with  him.  Upon  this  he  forebore  coming  any  more  to  our  lecture; 
but  he  unavoidably  contrived  to  bring  me  into  the  controversy 
which  I  shunned.  For  there  came  unto  me  five  or  six  of  his 
chief  proselytes,  as  if  they  were  yet  unresolved,  and  desired  me  to 
give  them  in  writing  the  arguments  which  satisfied  me  for  infant 
baptism.  I  asked  them  whether  they  came  not  by  Mr.  Tombes' 
directions ;  and  they  confessed  that  they  did.  I  asked  them 
whether  they  had  read  the  books  of  Mr,  Cobbet,  Mr.  Marshall, 
Mr.  Church,  Mr.  Blake,  for  infant  baptism ;  and  they  told  me,  no. 
I  desired  them  to  read  that  which  is  written  already,  before  they 
called  for  more,  and  tell  me  what  they  had  to  say  against  them. 
But  this  they  would  by  no  means  do ;  they  must  have  my  writings. 
I  told  them,  that  now  they  plainly  confessed  that  they  came  upon 
a  design  to  promote  their  party  by  contentious  WTitings,  and  not  in 
sincere  desire  to  be  informed,  as  they  pretended.  But,  to  be  short, 
they  had  no  more  modesty  than  to  insist  on  their  demands,  and  to 
tell  me,  that,  if  they  turned  against  infant  baptism,  and  I  denied  to 
give  them  njy  arguments  in  writing,  they  must  lay  it  upon  me.     I 


LIFE    OF'   RICHARD    BAXTER.  121 

asked  them,  whether  they  would  continue  unresolved  till  Mr. 
Tombes  and  I  had  done  our  writings,  seeing  it  was  some  years 
since  Mr.  Blake  and  he  began,  and  had  not  ended  yet.  But  no 
reasoning  served  the  turn  with  them ;  they  still  called  for  my  writ- 
ten arguments." 

The  negotiation  was  concluded  by  a  proposal  on  the  part  of  Bax- 
ter to  hold  a  public  discussion  in  Mr.  Tombes'  church  at  Bewdley, 
to  which  those  of  the  other  party  readily  assented. 

"  So  Mr.  Tombes  and  I  agreed  to  meet  at  his  church  on  the 
first  day  of  January,  1649.  And  in  great  weakness  thither  I  came, 
and  from  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  five  at  night,  in  a  crowd- 
ed congregation,  we  continued  our  dispute  ;  which  was  all  spent  in 
managing  one  argument,  from  infants'  right  to  church-membership 
to  their  right  to  baptism  ;  of  which  he  often  complained,  as  if  I  as- 
saulted him  in  a  new  way,  which  he  had  not  considered  of  before. 
But  this  was  not  the  first  time  that  I  had  dealt  with  Anabaptists^ 
few  having  so  much  to  do  with  them  in  the  army  as  I  had.  In  a 
word,  this  dispute  satisfied  all  my  own  people,  and  the  country 
that  came  in,  and  Mr.  Tombes'  own  townsmen,  except  about 
twenty,  whom  he  had  perverted,  who  gathered  into  his  church ; 
which  never  increased  to  above  twenty-two,  that  I  could  learn."* 

This,  however,  was  not  the  end  of  the  discussion.  It  was  pro- 
longed by  the  press.  Volume  after  volume  came  forth;  and  still 
neither  of  the  combatants  was  driven  from  the  field.  These  dis- 
putants have  both  gone  where  they  are  at  peace  with  each  other, 
and  where  no  principles  of  close  communion  bar  their  mutual  fel- 
lowship ;  but  the  dispute  is  still  unfinished. 

We  have  seen  the  diligence  of  Baxter  as  a  pastor,  and  the  la- 
bor and  solicitude  which  he  bestowed  upon  the  general  interests  of 
the  church.  As  yet,  however,  only  part  of  his  great  industry  while 
at  Kidderminster  has  been  distinctly  noticed.  All  this  labor,  all 
that  he  did  as  a  minister,  except  his  private  conference  with  fami- 
lies, was  only  his  recreation,  and  the  work  of  his  spare  hours. 
"My  writings,"  he  says,  in  a  passage  already  quoted  from  his 
Narrative,!  "were  my  chiefest  daily  labor ;  which  yet  went  the 
more  slowly  on,  that  I  never  one  hour  had  an  amanuensis  to  dic- 
tate to." 

The  following  enumeration  of  the  works  published  by  him,  dur- 
ing the  period  of  about  thirteen  years  now  under  review,  will  af- 
ford evidence  that  the  preceding  statement  is  not  a  mere  rhetori- 
cal flourish.  The  enumeration  is  limited  to  those  works  which 
were  published  during  his  residence  at  Kidderminster. 

1.      "  Aphorisms    of   Justification,    with    their    Explications. 

"  Narrative,  Part  1.  p.  96.  t  See  p  9<). 

VOL.  I.  16 


122  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTKR. 

Wherein  also  is  opened  the  Nature  of  the  Covenants,  Satisfac- 
tion, Righteousness,  Faith,  Works,  etc."  12mo.  published  in 
1649. 

2.  "The  Saint's  Everlasting  Rest ;  or  a  Treatise  of  the  Blessed 
State  of  the  Saints  in  their  Enjoyment  of  God."  4to.  published  in 
1650.  This  and  the  preceding  were  mostly  written  before  his 
return  to  Kidderminster,  though  the  date  of  their  publication  comes 
within  the  period  we  are  now  reviewing.  The  occasions  on  which 
they  were  written  have  already  been  described.* 

3.  "  Plain  Scripture  Proof  of  Infants'  Church  Membership  and 
Baptism ;  being  the  Arguments  prepared  for,  and  partly  managed 
in,  the  Public  Dispute  with  Mr.  Tombes  at  Bewdley,  on  the  first 
day  of  January,  1649.  With  a  full  Reply  to  what  he  then  an- 
swered, and  what  is  contained  in  his  Sermon  since  preached,  in  his 
printed  Books,  his  MS.  on  1  Cor.  vii.  14 ;  with  a  Reply  to  his 
Valedictory  Oration  at  Bewdley,  and  a  Correction  for  his  Anti- 
dote." 4to.  published  in  1650.  The  occasion  of  this  book  may 
be  thus  stated.  Baxter,  in  the  dedication  prefixed  to  the  first  edi- 
tion of  the  Saint's  Rest,  alluded  to  the  public  dispute  at  Bewdley, 
speaking  as  if  he  had  gained  the  victory  in  that  conflict.  Where- 
upon Tombes,  who  was  one  of  the  most  voluminous  writers  of  his 
party,  published  what  he  styled  "  An  Antidote  against  the  Venom" 
contained  in  those  allusions.  Baxter's  idea  seems  to  have  been 
that  every  thing  in  the  form  of  argument  must  be  either  answer- 
ed, or  acknowledged  as  unanswerable ;  and  accordingly  he  came 
out,  promptly,  with  a  quarto,  to  which  was  prefixed  that  long  title 
just  recited.  "  This  book,"  says  the  author,  long  afterwards,  "  God 
blessed  with  unexpected  success  to  stop  abundance  from  turning 
Anabaptists  ;  and  it  gave  a  considerable  check  to  their  proceed- 
ings."f  In  proof  of  the  interest  taken  by  the  public  in  the  con- 
troversy, it  has  been  stated  that  this  work,  in  the  course  of  a  few- 
years,  passed  through  several  editions. 

4.  "  Right  Method  for  a  Settled  Peace  of  Conscience  and  Spir- 
itual Comfort ;  in  thirty-two  Directions."  12mo.  published  in  1653. 
"The  occasion  of  it,"  he  says,  "was  this.  Mrs.  Bridges,  the  wife 
of  Col.  John  Bridges,  being  one  of  my  flock,  was  often  weeping 
put  her  doubts  to  me  about  her  long  and  great  uncertainty  of  her 
true  sanctification  and  salvation.  I  told  her  that  a  few  hasty  words 
were  not  direction  enough  for  the  satisfactory  resolving  of  so  great 
a  case  ;  and  therefore  I  would  write  her  down  a  few  of  those  neces- 
sary directions  which  she  should  read  and  study,  and  get  well  im- 
printed on  her  mind.  As  soon  as  I  begun,  I  found  that  it  would 
not  be  well  done  in  the  brevity  which  I  expected ;  and  that,  when 


'  See  pp.  77,  78.  t  I^arrative,  Fart  1.  p.  10!». 


r.lFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXJER.  1  i^S 

it  was  done,  it  would  be  as  useful  to  many  others  of  my  flock  as  to 
her ;  and  therefore  I  bestowed  more  time  on  it,  and  made  it  larger 
and  fit  for  common  use. 

"  This  book  pleased  Dr.  Hammond  much,  and  many  rational 
persons,  and  some  of  those  for  whom  it  was  written  ;  but  the 
women  and  weaker  sort,  I  found,  could  not  so  well  improve  clear 
reason  as  they  can  a  few  comfortable,  warm,  and  pretty  sentences. 
It  is  style,  and  not  reason,  which  doth  most  with  them.  Some  of 
the  divines  were  angry  with  it,  for  a  passage  or  two  about  perse- 
verance ;  because  I  had  said  that  many  men  are  certain  of  their 
present  sanctification,  who  are  not  certain  of  their  perseverance  and 
salvation,  meaning  all  the  godly  that  are  assured  of  their  sanctifica- 
tion, and  yet  do  not  hold  the  certainty  of  perseverance.  But  a 
great  storm  of  jealousy  and  censure  was,  by  this,  and  some  such 
words,  raised  against  me  by  many  good  men,  who  lay  more  on  their 
opinions  and  party  than  they  ought ;  therefore,  as  some  would  have 
had  me  to  retract  it,  and  others  to  leave  out  of  the  next  impression, 
I  did  the  latter."* 

This  "storm  of  jealousy  and  censure'"  led  him  to  publish,  not 
long  after,  the  work  next  to  be  noticed. 

5.  "  Richard  Baxter's  Account  of  his  Present  Thoughts  con- 
cerning the  Controversies  about  the  Perseverance  of  the  Saints." 
A  pamphlet  in  4to.  published  in  1653.  "In  this  book,"  he  says, 
"  I  showed  the  variety  of  opinions  about  perseverance,  and  that 
Augustine  and  Prosper  themselves  did  not  hold  the  certain  perse- 
verance of  all  that  are  truly  sanctified,  though  they  held  the  perse- 
verance of  all  the  elect ;  but  held  that  there  are  more  sanctified 
than  are  elect,  and  that  perseverance  is  affixed  to  the  elect  as  such, 
and  not  the  sanctified  as  such."  "  From  hence,  and  many  other 
arguments,  I  inferred  that  the  sharp  censures  of  men  against  their 
bretliren  for  not  holding  a  point  which  Augustine  himself  was  against, 
and  no  one  author  can  be  proved  to  hold  from  the  apostles'  days  till 
long  after  Augustine,  doth  assure  less  charity  than  many  of  the 
censurers  seem  to  have." 

The  following  passage  has  been  cited  from  this  work  as  a  plain 
expression  of  his  personal  opinion  respecting  the  doctrine  in  ques- 
tion. "Therefore,  notwithstanding  all  the  objections  that  are 
against  it,  and  the  ill  use  that  will  be  made  of  it  by  many,  and  the 
accidental  troubles  into  which  it  may  cast  some  believers,  it  seems 
to  me  that  the  doctrine  of  perseverance  is  grounded  on  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  therefore  is  to  be  maintained,  not  only  as  extending  to  all 
the  elect,  against  the  Lutherans  and  Arminians,  but  also  as  extend- 
ing to  all  the  truly  sanctified,  against  Augustine,  and  the  Janse- 

"  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  I0f>,  110. 


124  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.. 

nians,  and  other  Dominicans ;  though  we  must  rank  it  but  among 
truths  of  its  own  order,  and  not  lay  the  church's  peace  or  com- 
munion upon  it."* 

The  explanations  of  his  orthodoxy  seem  to  have  been  satis- 
factory ;  for  he  adds,  "  I  never  heard  of  any  censure  against  these 
papers,  though  the  few  lines  which  occasioned  them  had  so 
much."f 

6.  "  Christian  Concord ;  or  the  Agreement  of  the  Associated 
Pastors  and  Churches  of  Worcestershire  :  with  Richard  Baxter's  Ex- 
plication and  Defense  of  it,  and  his  Exhortation  to  Unity."  4to. 
published  in  1653.  Of  this  work  he  says,  "  When  we  set  on  foot 
our  association  in  Worcestershire,  I  was  desired  to  print  our  agree- 
ment, with  an  explication  of  the  several  articles,  which  I  did  in  a 

.small  book,  in  which  I  gave  the  reasons  why  the  Episcopal,  Pres- 
byterians, and  Independents,  might  and  should  unite,  on  such  terms, 
without  any  change  of  any  of  their  principles.  But  I  confess  that 
the  new  Episcopal  party,  that  follow  Grotius  too  far,  and  deny  the 
very  being  of  all  the  ministers  and  churches  that  have  not  diocesan 
bishops,  are  not  capable  of  union  with  the  rest  upon  such  terms. 
And  hereby  I  gave  notice  to  the  gentry  and  others  of  the  royalists 
in  England,  of  the  great  danger  they  were  in  of  changing  their  ec- 
clesiastical cause,  by  following  new  leaders  that  were  for  Grotian- 
ism.  But  this  admonition  did  greatly  offend  the  guilty,  who  now 
began  to  get  the  reins,  though  the  old  Episcopal  Protestants  con- 
fessed it  all  to  be  true. "J 

7.  "  The  Worcestershire  Petition  to  Parliament,  in  Behalf  of 
the  able,  faithful,  and  godly  Ministry  of  this  Nation,"  was  drawn  up 
by  Baxter  at  a  time  when  the  Anabaptists,  Seekers,  and  others, 
were  clamorous  against  the  clergy  ;  and  it  was  feared  that  the  Rump 
Parliament  was  about  to  abolish  the  maintenance  of  the  gospel 
ministry.  This  petition  was  presented  by  Col.  Bridges  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Foley,  in  the  name  of  "  many  thousands,  gentlemen,  free- 
holders, and  others  of  the  county  of  Worcestershire,"  on  the  22d  of 
December,  1652,  and  "was  accepted  with  thanks."  Soon  after- 
wards, in  1653,  it  was  published,  with  the  answer  of  the  speaker 
in  the  name  of  parliament,  thankhig  the  petitioners  for  their  zeal. 
"  But  sectaries  greatly  raged  against  that  petition  ;  and  one  wrote  a 
vehement  invective  against  it,"  which  Baxter  hastened  to  answer 
in  the  work  next  to  be  noticed. 

8.  "  The  Worcestershire  Petition  to  Parliament  for  the  Ministry 
of  England,   defended  by  a  Minister  of  Christ  in  that  County,  in 

*  This  quotation  is  taken  from   Orme's  Life  of  Baxter.     Baxter's  work  on 
Perseverance  is  not  before  me. 
t  Narrative,  Part  II.  p.  110. 
i  Ibid.  p.  112. 


LIFE  OF  RICHAKD  BAXTER.  125 

Answer  to  sixteen  Queries,  printed  in  a  book  called,  A  Brief  Dis- 
covery of  the  Threefold  Estate  of  Antichrist,"  etc.  4to.  publish- 
ed in  1653.  Of  this  book  he  says,  "  I'  knew  not  what  kind  of 
person  he  was  that  I  wrote  against,  but  it  proved  to  be  a  Quaker, 
they  being  just  now  rising,  and  this  being  the  fii'st  of  their  books, 
as  far  as  I  can  remember,  that  1  had  ever  seen."  This  Quaker, 
we  ai-e  informed  by  Orme,  was  none  other  than  George  Fox,  the 
father  of  that  sect. 

9.  "  True  Christianity ;  or  Christ's  Absolute  Dominion,  and 
Man's  Recovery,  Self-resignation,  and  Subjection,  in  two  Assize 
Sermons."  4to.  published  in  1654.  "  The  first,"  he  says,  "  was 
preached  before  Judge  Atkins,  Sir  Thomas  Rous  being  high 
sherift';  the  second  before  Sergeant  Glyn,  who  desiring  me  to 
print  it,  I  thought  meet  to  print  the  former  with  it."  In  the  pref- 
ace to  one  of  these  sermons,  he  says  to  the  "  Christian  reader," 
"  I  have  endeavored  to  show  you,  in  both  these  semions,  that 
Christ  might  be  preached  without  Antinomianism  ;  that  terror  may 
be  preached  without  unwarrantably  preaching  the  law  ;  that  the 
gospel  is  not  a  mere  promise,  and  that  the  law  is  not  so  terrible  as 
it  is  to  the  rebellious ;  as  also  what  that  superstructure  is,  which 
is  built  on  the  foundation  of  general  redemption  rightly  understood  ; 
and  how  ill  we  can  preach  Christ's  dominion  in  his  universal  pro- 
priety and  sovereignty,  without  this  foundation."  Speaking  of  the 
style  and  structure  of  the  work,  he  has  this  characteristic  saying : 
''  It  is  for  the  vulgar,  principally,  that  I  publish  it ;  and  I  had 
rather  it  might  be  numbered  with  those  books  which  are  carried  up 
and  down  the  country  from  door  to  door  in  pedlars'  packs,  than 
with  those  that  lie  on  booksellers'  stalls,  or  are  set  up  in  the  libra- 
ries of  learned  divines." 

10.  "  Richard  Baxter's  Apology,"  etc.  4to.  published  in  1654. 
This  work  was  designed  as  a  reply  to  the  strictures  which  had  been 
published  by  different  authors,  on  his  Aphorisms  of  Justification. 
It  was  dedicated  to  his  old  military  friend,  "  the  Honorable  Com- 
missary-General Whalley."  The  conclusion  of  this  dedication 
deserves  to  be  cited,  on  account  of  its  beauty  both  of  sentiment  and 
expression  ;  and  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  subsequent  history 
of  the  man  to  whom  this  language  was  addressed,  wdll  read  it  with 
a  superadded  interest. 

"  Your  great  warfare  is  not  yet  accomplished :  the  wonns  of 
corruption  that  breed  in  us  will  live,  in  some  measure,  till  we  die 
ourselves.  Your  conquest  of  yourself  is  yet  imperfect.  To  fight 
with  yourself,  you  will  find  the  hardest  but  most  necessary  conflict 
that  ever  yet  you  were  engaged  in ;  and  to  overcome  yourself,  the 
most  honorable  and  gainful  victory.  Think  not  that  your  greatest 
trials  are  all  over.     Prosperity  hath  its  peculiar  temptations,  by 


1126  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

which  it  hath  foiled  many,  that  stood  unshaken  in  the  storms  of 
adversity.  The  tempter,  who  hath  had  you  on  the  waves,  will 
now  assault  you  in  the  cJhn,  and  hath  his  last  game  to  play  on  the 
mountain,  till  nature  cause  you  to  descend.  Stand  this  charge, 
and  you  win  the  day."* 

11.  "Richard  Baxter's  Confession  of  Faith,  especially  con- 
cerning the  Interest  of  Repentance  and  Sincere  Obedience  to 
Christ  in  our  Justification  and  Salvation,"  4to.  published  in  1655. 
This  was  designed  as  a  farther  explanation  and  defense  of  his 
Aphorisms.  "  In  my  Confession,"  he  says,  "  I  opened  the  whole 
doctrine  of  Antinomianism,  which  I  opposed."  "  And  I  opened 
the  weakness  of  Dr.  Owen's  reasonings  for  justification  before 
faith,  in  his  former  answer  to  me." 

12.  "Richard  Baxter's  Advice  to  the  Members  of  Parliament, 
in  a  Sermon  preached  in  Westminster  Abbey."  Published  in  1655. 
"  This  was,"  he  says,  "  one  scrap  of  a  sermon  preached  to  many 
members  of  parliament,  which  was  taken  by  some  one  and  printed  ; 
and  is  nothing  but  the  naming  of  a  few  directions  which  I  then 
gave  the  parliament  men  for  church  reformation  and  peace. "f 

13.  "  Making  Light  of  Christ  and  Salvation,  too  oft  the  Issue 
of  Gospel  Invitations :  a  Semion  preached  at  Laurence  Jury  in 
London."  4to.  published  in  1655.  Another  so  searching,  fervent, 
eloquent  appeal  to  irreligious  and  careless  men,  can  hardly  be  found 
in  any  language. 

14.  "  A  Sermon  of  Judgment ;  preached  at  Paul's,  before  the 
Honorable  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen  of  the  City  of  London, 
Dec.  17,  1654,  and  now  enlarged."  4to.  published  1655.  This, 
in  the  octavo  edition  of  his  practical  works,  is  a  treatise  of  nearly 
a  hundred  pages. 

15.  "The  Quaker's  Catechism;  or  the  Quakers  questioned, 
their  Questions  answered,  and  both  published  for  the  Sake  of  those 
of  them  that  have  not  yet  sinned  unto  Death,  and  of  those  .un- 
grounded Novices  that  are  most  in  Danger  of  their  Seduction."  A 
pamphlet  in  4to.  published  in  1655.  The  occasion  of  this  little 
work,  he  describes  in  the  following  words : — 

"The  Quakers  began  to  make  a  great  stir  among  us,  acting  the 
pait  of  men  in  raptures,  speaking  in  the  manner  of  men  inspired, 
and  every  where  railing  against  tithes  and  ministers.  They  sent 
many  papers  of  queries  to  divers  ministers  about  us  ;  to  one  of  the 
chief  of  which  I  wTote  an  answer,  and  gave  them  as  many  more 
questions,  to  answer,  entitling  it  '  The  Quaker's  Catechism.' 
These  pamphlets,  being  but  one  or  two  days'  work,  were  no  great 

*  Orme.     The  Apology  of  Baxter  has  not  been  before  me 
f  Narrative.  Part  1.  p.  111. 


UFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  12*7 

interruption  to  my  better  labors,  and  as  they  were  of  small  worth, 
so  also  of  small  cost.  The  same  ministers  of  our  country,  that 
are  now  silenced,  are  they  that  the  Quakers  most  vehemently 
opposed,  meddling  little  with  the  rest.  The  marvelous  concur- 
rence of  instruments  telleth  us,  that  one  principal  agent  doth  act 
them  all.  I  have  oft  asked  the  Quakers  lately.  Why  they  chose 
the  same  ministers  to  revile,  whom  all  the  drunkards  and  swearers 
rail  against  ?  And  why  they  cried  out  in  our  assemblies,  Come 
down,  thou  deceixer,  thou  hireling,  thou  dog;  and  now  never 
meddle  with  the  pastors  or  congregations?  They  answer,  that 
.these  men  sin  in  the  open  light,  and  need  none  to  discover  them ; 
and  that  the  Spirit  hath  his  times  of  severity  and  of  lenity.  But 
the  truth  is,  they  knew  then  they  might  be  bold  without  any  fear 
of  suffering  by  it ;  and  now  it  is  time  for  them  to  save  their  skins, 
they  suffer  enough  for  their  own  assemblies."* 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add,  that  the  Quakers  of  that  day  were 
exceedingly  unlike  the  sober,  peaceable  and  exemplary  moralists 
who  now  bear  that  name.  All  accounts  unite  in  testifying  that 
the  conduct  of  the  enthusiasts  against  whom  Baxter  wrote  this 
pamphlet,  was  such  as  outraged  all  decency,  no  less  distinctly  than 
their  principles  contradicted  both  scripture  and  common  sense. 

16.  "The  Unreasonableness  of  Infidelity,  manifested  in  four 
Discourses."  8vo.  published  in  1655.  This  is  a  work  of  about 
450  pages.  The  author,  from  the  time  of  his  connection  with  the 
army,  had  watched  with  much  interest  the  tendency  of  certain 
fanatical  sects  towards  sheer  infidelity.  The  Papists,  who  were 
every  where  at  work  in  those  stormy  times,  were  at  much  pains 
secretly  to  promote  these  tendencies,  hoping  that  men  would  by 
and  by  be  persuaded  that  infidelity  was  tlie  necessary  result  of  every 
scheme  which  denied  the  infallibility  of  their  church.  A  certain 
class  of  republican  politicians,  whom  Cromwell  called  the  '  heathen,' 
were  diffusing  a  sort  of  philosophic  unbehefin  the  sphere  of  their 
influence.  Hobbes,  and  Lord  Herbert,  the  fathers  of  English 
Deism,  were  directly  assailing  Christianity  by  their  writings.  Bax- 
ter was  the  first  who  encountered  these  tendencies  by  argument. 
His  are  said  to  be  the  earliest  original  works  in  the  English  lan- 
guage on  the  evidences  of  Christianity. 

The  following  account  of  his  views  and  motives  in  undertaking 
this  work,  is  from  the  preface. 

"  Having  the  unhappy  opportunity,  many  years  ago,  of  discours- 
ing with  some  of  those,  [fanatic  infidels,]  and  perceiving  them  to 
increase,  I  preached  the  sermons  on  Gal.  iii.,  which  are  here  first 
printed.     Long  after  this,  having  again  and  again  too  frequent  oc- 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  llC. 


128  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

casion  to  confer  with  some  of  them,  the  nearness  and  the  hideous- 
ness  of  this  deplorable  evil  did  very  much  force  my  thoughts  that 
way,  especially  when  I  found  that  I  fell  into  whole  companies  of 
them,  besetting  me  at  once,  and  who,  with  great  scorn  and  cunning 
subtlety,  endeavored  to  bring  my  special  friends  to  a  contempt  of 
the  scripture  and  the  life  to  come ;  and  also  when  I  considered 
how  many  of  them  were  once  my  intimate  friends,  whom  I  cannot 
yet  choose  but  love  with  compassion,  when  I  remember  our  former 
converse  and  familiarity :  and  some  of  them  were  ancient  profess- 
ors, who  have  done  and  suffered  much  in  a  better  cause ;  and 
whose  uprightness  we  were  all  as  confident  of  as  most  men's, 
living  on  earth.  All  this  did  make  the  case  more  grievous  to  me ; 
yet  I  must  needs  say  that  the  most  that  I  have  known  to  fall  thus 
far,  were  such  as  were  formerly  so  proud,  or  sensual,  or  giddy  pro- 
fessors, that  they  seemed  then  but  to  stay  for  a  shaking  temptation 
to  lay  them  in  the  dirt ;  and  those  of  better  qualifications,  of  whose 
sincerity  we  were  so  confident,  were  very  few.  It  yet  troubled  me 
more,  that  those  of  them,  whose  welfare  I  most  heartily  desired, 
would  never  be  drawn  to  open  their  minds  to  me,  so  that  I  was 
out  of  all  capacity  of  doing  them  any  good,  though  sometime  to 
others  they  would  speak  more  freely.  And  when  I  have  stirred 
sometime  further  abroad,  1  have  perceived  that  some  persons  of 
considerable  quality  and  learning,  having  much  conversed  with 
men  of  that  way,  and  read  such  books  as  '  Hobbes's  Leviathan,' 
have  been  sadly  infected  with  this  mortal  pestilence ;  and  the  horrid 
language  that  some  of  them  utter  cannot  but  grieve  any  one  that 
heareth  of  it,  who  hath  the  least  sense  of  God's  honor,  or  the 
worth  of  souls.  Sometimes  they  make  a  jest  at  Christ ;  some- 
times at  scripture ;  sometimes  at  the  soul  of  man  ;  sometimes  at 
spirits  ;  challenging  the  devil  to  come  and  appear  to  them,  and  pro- 
fessing how  far  they  would  travel  to  see  him,  as  not  believing  that 
indeed  he  is ;  sometimes  scorning  at  the  talk  of  hell,  and  presum- 
ing to  seduce  poor,  carnal  people,  that  are  too  ready  to  believe 
such  things,  telling  them  that  it  were  injustice  in  God  to  punish  a 
short  sin  with  an  everlasting  punishment ;  and  that  God  is  good, 
and  therefore  there  cannot  be  any  devils,  or  hell,  because  evil 
cannot  come  from  good ;  sometimes  they  say  that  it  is  not  they, 
but  sin  that  dwelleth  in  them ;  and  therefore  sin  shall  be  damned, 
and  not  they ;  and  most  of  them  give  up  themselves  to  sensuality, 
which  is  no  wonder  ;  for  he  that  thinks  there  is  no  greater  happi- 
ness hereafter  to  be  expected,  is  like  enough  to  take  his  fill  of 
sensual  pleasure  while  he  may  have  it;  and,  as  I  have  said  once 
before,  he  that  thinks  he  shall  die  like  a  dog,  is  like  enough  to 
live  like  a  dog. 

"  Being  awakened  by  these  sad  experiences  and  considerations 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  129 

to  a  deeper  compassion  of  these  miserable  men,  but  especially  to  a 
deeper  sense  of  the  danger  of  weaii  unsettled  professors,  whom 
they  labor  to  seduce,  another  providence  also  instigating  thereto,  I 
put  those  sermons  on  Gal.  iii.  to  the  press."* 

17.  "The  Agreement  of  the  Worcestershire  Ministers  for  Cate- 
chising."    12mo.  published  in  1656. 

18.  "  Gildas  Salvianus:  The  Reformed  Pastor;  shewing  the 
Nature  of  the  Pastoral  Work,  especially  in  Private  Instruction  and 
Catechising,  with  an  open  Confession  of  our  too  open  Sins,"  etc. 
8vo.  published  in  1656. 

Of  the  occasion  and  design  of  these  two  works  he  speaks  thus. 
"  About  that  time,  being  apprehensive  how  great  a  part  of  our  work 
lay  in  catechising  the  aged  who  were  ignorant,  as  well  as  children, 
and  especially  in  serious  conference  with  them  about  the  matters 
of  their  salvation,  I  thought  it  best  to  draw  in  all  the  ministers  of 
the  county  with  me,  that  the  benefit  might  extend  the  further,  and 
that  each  one  mignt  have  the  less  opposition.  Which  having  pro- 
cured, at  their  desire  I  wrote  a  catechism,  and  the  articles  of  our 
agreement,  and  before  them  an  earnest  exhortation  to  our  ignorant 
people  to  submit  to  this  way:  and  this  was  then  published.  The 
catechism  was  also  a  brief  confession  of  faith,  being  the  enlargement 
of  a  confession  which  I  had  before  printed  in  an  open  sheet,  when 
we  set  up  church  discipline. 

"  When  we  set  upon  this  great  work,  it  was  thought  best  to  be- 
gin with  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  by  all  the  ministers,  at  Worces- 
ter, where  they  desired  me  to  preach.  But  weakness  and  other 
things  hindered  me  from  that  day ;  and  to  compensate  that,.  I  en- 
larged and  published  the  sermon  which  1  had  prepared  for  them ; 
and  entitled  the  treatise  Gildas  Salvianus  (because  I  imitated  Gildas 
and  Salvianus  in  my  liberty  of  speech  to  the  pastors  of  the  churches) 
or  the  Reformed  Pastor." 

The  Reformed  Pastor  is  one  of  those  works  of  Baxter  which 
has  been  most  extensively  circulated  and  most  profitably  read.  It 
is  in  the  hands  of  thousands  of  ministers  at  this  day ;  and  it  were 
well  if  the  diligent  and  devotional  study  of  that  book  were  made  a 
part  of  the  course  of  preparation  for  the  ministry  in  every  theolo- 
gical seminary.  "  I  have  veiy  great  cause,"  says  the  author,  less 
than  ten  years  after  its  first  publication,  "  to  be  thankful  to  God  for 
the  success  of  that  book,  as  hoping  many  thousand  souls  are  the 
better  for  it,  in  that  it  prevailed  with  many  ministers  to  set  upon 
that  work  which  I  there  exhort  them  to.  Even  from  beyond  the 
seas,  I  have  had  letters  of  request,  to  direct  them  how  they  might 
bring  on  that  work  according  as  that  book  had  convinced  them  that 

*  Baxter's  Practical  Works  :  London,   1830     Vol.  xx.  pp.  22,  23. 
VOL.  I.  17 


130  LIFE    OF    RICHARB    BAXTER. 

it  was  their  duty.  If  God  would  but  reform  the  ministry,  and  set 
them  on  their  duty  zealously  and  faithfully,  the  people  would  cer- 
tainly be  reformed  :  all  churches  either  rise  or  fall,  as  the  ministry 
doth  rise  or  fall,  not  in  riclies  or  worldly  grandeur,  but  in  knowledge, 
zeal,  and  ability  for  the  work.  But  since  bishops  were  restored, 
this  book  is  useless,  and  that  work  not  meddled  with."* 

19.  "  Certain  Disputations  of  Rights  to  Sacraments,  and  the 
True  Nature  of  Visible  Christianity."  Published  in  1656.  Of 
this  work  it  is  unnecessary  to  say  more  than  that  it  is  a  controversial 
examination  of  the  question,  What  is  the  proper  condition  of  church 
communion  ?  and  that  the  doctrine  which  it  maintains  is,  that 
the  only  condition  of  membership  which  any  church  has  a  right  to 
require,  and  the  great  condition  which  no  church  has  a  right  to 
dispense  with,  is  simply  "  a  credible  profession  of  true  faith  and 
repentance." 

20.  "  The  Safe  Religion,  or  Three  Disputations  for  the  Re- 
formed Catholic  Religion  against  Popery."  8vo.  published  in  1657. 
Of  this  work  he  says,  "  The  great  advancement  of  the  Popish  interest 
by  their  secret  agency  among  the  Sectaries,  Seekers,  Quakers, 
Behmenists,  etc.,  did  make  me  think  it  necessary  to  do  something 
directly  against  Popery.  So  I  published  three  dissertations  against 
them,  one  to  prove  our  religion  safe,  and  another  to  prove  their  re- 
ligion unsafe,  and  a  third  to  show  that  they  overthrew  the  faith  by 
the  ill  resolution  of  their  faith. "f 

21.  "A  Treatise  of  Conversion;  preached  and  now  published 
for  the  Use  of  those  that  are  Strangers  to  a  true  Conversion,  espe- 
cially the  grossly  ignorant  and  ungodly."  4to.  published,  in  1657. 
It  was,  as  he  says,  "  some  plain  sermons  on  that  subject,  which  Mr. 
Baldwin,  an  honest  young  minister,  that  had  lived  in  my  house  and 
learned  my  short  hand  in  which  I  wrote  my  sermon  notes,  had 
transcribed  out  of  my  notes.  And  though  I  had  no  leisure,  for  this 
or  other  writings,  to  add  any  ornaments',  or  citations  of  authors,  I 
thought  it  might  better  pass  as  it  was,  than  not  at  all ;  and  that  if 
the  author  missed  of  the  applause  of  the  learned,  yet  the  book 
might  be  profitable  to  the  ignorant,  as  it  proved,  through  the  great 
mercy  of  God." 

This  work,  it  may  be  supposed,  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  author's 
ordinary  preaching.  -In  this  point  of  view,  it  is  a  book  of  no  small 
value,  not  only  for  "  the  grossly  ignorant  and  ungodly,"  but  also 
for  divines  however  "  learned."  He  who  reads  it  carefully  will 
hardly  wonder  at  Baxter's  success  as  a  preacher ;  and  may  learn 
from  it  more  of  the  manner  in  which  truth  should  be  presented  to 
the  minds  of  men,  than  from  many  a  learned  work  on  rhetoric  and 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  115.  1  Ibid.  p.  116. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  131 

homiletics.  The  work  is  at  the  same  time  worthy  of  dihgent  atten- 
tion as  a  theological  treatise.  It  shows  what  views  of  '  conversion ' 
were  entertained  by  a  man  whose  success  in  promoting  the  conver- 
sion of  sinners  has  rarely  been  equaled. 

2'2.  Several  single  sheets,  corresponding  in  their  plan  with  the 
publications  of  our  Tract  Societies,  were  among  the  works  which 
he  published  in  1657.  The  titles  of  these  were  "A  Winding 
Sheet  for  Popery;"  "One  Sheet  for  the  Ministry  against  Malig- 
nants  of  all  Sorts  ; "  "  One  Sheet  against  the  Quakers  ; "  "A  second 
Sheet  for  the  Ministry,  justifying  our  caUing  against  the  Quakers, 
Seekers,  and  Papists,  and  all  that  deny  us  to  be  the  Ministers  of 
Christ ;  "  and  "  A  Sheet  directing  Justices  in  Corporations  to  dis- 
charge their  Duty  to  God."  Tlie  industry  and  spirit  of  the  author 
has  been  illustrated  by  a  few  words  from  one  of  these  fugitive  pub- 
lications. 

"The  Quakers  say,  we  are  idle  drones,  that  labor  not,  and 
therefore  should  not  eat.  The  worst  I  wish  you  is,  that  you  had 
but  my  ease  instead  of  your  labor.  I  have  reason  to  take  myself 
for  the  least  of  saints,  and  yet  I  fear  not  to  tell  the  accuser  that  I 
take  the  labor  of  most  tradesmen  in  the  town  to  be  a  pleasure  to 
the  body,  in  comparison  with  mine ;  though,  for  the  ends  and 
pleasure  of  my  mind,  1  would  not  change  it  witli  the  greatest  prince. 
Their  labor  preserveth  health,  and  mine  consumeth  it ;  they  work 
in  ease,  and  I  in  continual  pain ;  they  have  hours  and  days  of  rec- 
reation, I  have  scarce  time  to  eat  and  drink.  Nobody  molesteth 
them  for  their  labor,  but  the  more  I  do,  the  more  hatred  and  trouble 
I  draw  upon  me.  If  a  Quaker  ask  me  what  all  this  labor  is,  let 
him  come  and  see,  or  do  as  I  do,  and  he  shall  know."* 

23.  "A  Call  to  the  Unconverted  to  turn  and  live,  and  accept 
of  Mercy  while  Mercy  may  be  had,  as  ever  they  would  find  Mer- 
cy in  the  day  of  their  Extremity :  From  the  Living  God.  To  which 
are  added  Forms  of  Prayer  for  Morning  and  Evening  for  a  Family, 
for  a  penitent  Sinner  and  for  the  Lord's  Day."  8vo.  published  in 
1657.  "The  occasion  of  this,"  he  says,  "was  my  converse  with 
Bishop  Usher,  while  I  was  at  London,  who,  much  approving  my 
'  Directions  for  Peace  of  Conscience,'  was  importunate  with  me  to 
write  directions  suited  to  the  various  states  of  Christians,  and  also 
against  particular  sins.  I  reverenced  the  man ;  but  disregarded 
these  persuasions,  supposing  I  could  do  nothing  but  what  is  done  as 
well  or  better  already.  But  when  he  was  dead,  his  words  went 
deeper  to  my  mind,  and  I  purposed  to  obey  his  counsel ;  yet  so  as 
that  to  the  first  sort  of  men,  the  ungodly,  I  thought  vehement  per- 
suasions meeter  than  directions  only.     And  so  for  such,  I  publish- 

*This  quotation  is  on  the  authority  of  Ornie. 


132  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

ed  this  little  book  ;  which  God  hath  blessed  with  unexpected  sue-. 
cess  beyond  all  the  rest  that  I  have  written,  except  the  '  Saint's 
Rest.'  In  a  little  more  than  a  year,  there  were  about  twenty  thou- 
sand of  them  printed  by  my  own  consent,  and  about  ten  thousand 
since ;  besides  many  thousands,  by  stolen  impressions,  which  poor 
men  stole  for  lucre's  sake.  Through  God's  mercy,  I  have  had  in- 
formation of  almost  whole  households  being  converted  by  this  small 
book,  which  I  set  so  light  by ;  and,  as  if  all  this  in  England,  Scot- 
land, and  Ireland,  were  not  mercy  enough  to  me,  God,  since  I  was 
silenced,  hath  sent  it  over  on  his  message  to  many  beyond  the  seas. 
For  when  Mr.  Elliot  had  printed  all  tlie  Bible  in  the  Indians'  lan- 
guage, he  next  translated  this  my  '  Call  to  the  Unconverted,'  as  he 
wrote  to  us  here  ;  and  though  it  was  here  thought  prudent  to  begin 
with  the  '  Practice  of  Piety,'  because  of  the  envy  and  distaste  of 
the  times  against  me,  he  had  finished  it  before  that  advice  came  to 
him.  Yet  God  would  make  some  further  use  of  it ;  for  Mr.  Stoop, 
the  pastor  of  the  French  church  in  London,  being  driven  hence  by 
the  displeasure  of  superiors,  was  pleased  to  translate  it  into  elegant 
French,  and  print  it  in  a  very  curious  letter;  and  I  hope  it  will 
not  be  unprofitable  there,  nor  in  German)^,  where  it  is  prmted  in 
Dutch."* 

The  work  is  too  well  known,  and  too  extensively  useful  at  the 
present  day,  to  need  either  description  or  eulogy.  I  may  add, 
however,  to  what  the  author  has  said  in  the  paragraph  just  cited, 
that  it  has  been  translated  into  most  of  the  languages  of  Europe ; 
and  that  the  men  who,  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elliot,  are  now 
carrying  the  gospel  to  every  nation,  will  probably  find  themselves 
constrained  to  imitate  his  example,  till  Baxter's  Call,  "  that  small 
book  which  he  set  so  light  by,"  shall  be  read  in  every  language  of 
mankind. 

24.  "  The  Crucifying  of  the  World  by  the  Cross  of  Christ. 
With  a  Preface  to  the  Nobles,  Gentlemen,  and  all  the  Rich,  direct- 
ing them  how  they  may  be  richer."  4to.  published  in  1658. 
This  was  originally  an  assize  sermon,  pi'eached  at  Worcester  on 
the  request  of  his  early  friend  Mr.  Thomas  Foley,  then  high  sheriff 
of  the  county.  In  preparing  it  for  the  press,  he  enlarged  it  into  a 
treatise  of  about  three  hundred  pages,  which  deserves  a  place 
among  his  most  eloquent  and  finished  productions. 

25.  "A  Treatise  of  Saving  Faith."  4to.  published  in  1658.  In 
some  of  his  former  publications,  he  had  been  understood  as  main- 
taining "tliat  saving  faith  differeth  not  in  kind,  but  in  degree,  from 
common  faith."  Dr.  Barlow,  tlien  provost  of  Queen's  College, 
Oxford,  and  afterwards  bishop  of  Lincoln,  had  published,  anony- 


Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  114,  1  U. 


\ 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  133 

mously,  some  strictures  on  this  supposed  opinion  of  Baxter's.     To 
these  strictures  Baxter  replied  in  this  work  on  Saving  Faith. 

26.  "  Confirmation  and  Restauration,  the  necessary  Means  of 
Reformation  and  Reconciliation ;  for  the  Healing  of  the  Corrup- 
tions and  Divisions  of  the  Churches.  Submissively,  but  earnestly 
tendered  to  the  Consideration  of  the  Sovereign  Powers,  Magistrates, 
Ministers,  and  People,  that  they  may  awake,  and  be  up  and  doing 
in  the  Execution  of  so  much  as  appeareth  to  be  necessary  ;  as  they 
are  true  to  Christ,  his  Church  and  Gospel,  and  to  their  own  and 
others'  Souls,  and  to  the  Peace  and  Welfare  of  the  Nations ;  and 
as  they  will  answer  the  Neglect  to  Christ  at  their  Peril."  12mo. 
published  in  1658.  "A  Mr.  Hanmer  had  written  a  work  on  con- 
firmation, urging  the  necessity  of  some  solemn  introduction  of  per- 
sons at  adult  age  to  the  privileges  of  church  membership,  and  at 
his  request,  Baxter  had  prefixed  to  that  work  an  Introductory 
Epistle.  The.  inquiries  which  that  publication  occasioned,  led 
Baxter  to  take  up  the  subject  again,  and  to  discuss  it  more  at 
large,  presenting  the  testimony  of  the  Scriptures.  The  design  of 
the  book  is  simply  to  show  that  no  person  ought  to  be  admitted  to 
the  privileges  of  adult  membership  in  any  church,  save  on  the  pub- 
lic profession  of  his  conversion  and  faith,  and  that  of  the  satisfacto- 
riness  of  such  profession  the  pastor  ought  to  be  the  judge. 

27.  "  Directions  and  Persuasions  to  a  Sound  Conversion,  for  Pre- 
vention of  that  Deceit  and  Damnation  of  Souls,  and  of  those  Scan- 
dals, Heresies,  and  desperate  Apostasies,  that  are  Consequents  of  a 
counterfeit  or  superficial  Change."  8vo.  published  in  1658.  This 
was  designed  as  a  sequel  to  his  "  Call  to  the  Unconverted."  "  Af- 
ter the  Call,  I  thought,"  he  says,  "that,  according  to  Bishop  Ush- 
er's method,  the  next  sort  that  I  should  write  for  is  those  that  are 
under  the  work  of  conversion,  because  by  half-conversions,  multi- 
tudes prove  deceived  hypocrites."*  He  appears  to  have  val- 
ued this  work  more  highly  than  the  Call  ;  probably  he  bestowed 
more  labor  on  it.  Yet,  owing,  as  he  thouglit,  to  the  bad  manage- 
ment of  the  booksellers,  it  passed  through  only  two  or  three 
editions. 

28.  "  Five  Disputations  of  Church  Government  and  Worship." 
4to.  published  in  1658.  "  I  published  these,"  he  says,  "  in  order  to 
the  reconciliation  of  the  differing  parties.  In  the  first  I  proved  that 
the  English  diocesan  prelacy  is  intolerable,  which  none  hath 
answered.  In  the  second,  I  have  proved  the  validity  of  the  ordi- 
nation then  exercised  without  diocesans  in  England,  which  no  man 
hath  answered,  though  many  have  urged  men  to  be  re-ordained. 
In  the  third,  I  have  proved  that  there  are  divers  sorts  of  episcopacy 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  ll"). 


134  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

lawful  and  desirable.     In  the  fourth  and  fifth,  I  show  the  lawfulness  • 
of  some  ceremonies,  and  of  a  liturgy,  and  what  is  unlawful  here."* 

29.  "  The  Judgment  and  Advice  of  the  Associated  Ministers  of 
Worcestershire,  concerning  Mr.  John  Dury's  Endeavors  after  Ec- 
clesiastical Peace."  4to.  published  in  1648.  Whatever  was 
done  in  the  Worcestershire  Association,  Baxter  seems  to  have  been 
the  doer  of  it.  Of  the  occasion  of  this  pamphlet  he  says,  "  Mr. 
John  Dury,  having  spent  thirty  years  in  endeavors  to  reconcile 
the  Lutherans  and  Calvinists,  was  now  going  over  sea  again  in  that 
work,  and  desired  the  judgment  of  our  association,  how  it  should  be 
successfully  expedited ;  which  at  their  desire  I  drew  up  more  large- 
ly in  Latin,  and  more  briefly  in  English.  The  English  letter  he 
printed,  as  my  letter  to  Mr.  Dury  for  pacification. "f 

30.  "  L^niversal  Concord."  12mo.  published  in  1658.  This  was 
another  of  his  contributions  to  the  cause  of  catholic  communion. 
"  Having  been  desired,"  he  says,  "  in  the  time  of  our  associations, 
to  draw  up  tliose  terms  which  all  Christian  churches  may  hold  com- 
munion upon,  I  published  them,  though  too  late  for  any  such  use,  (till 
God  give  men  better  minds,)  that  the  world  might  see  what  our 
religion  and  terms  of  communion  were  ;  and  that  if  after  ages  prove 
more  peaceable,  they  may  have  some  light  from  those  that  went 
before  them. "J 

31.  "The  Grotian  Religion  discovered,  at  the  Invitation  of  Mr. 
Thomas  Pierce."  12mo.  published  in  1658.  In  the  Universal  Con- 
cord, he  had  spoken  of  Grotius  as  a  concealed  Papist,  and  as  hav- 
ing designed  a  reunion  of  the  Protestant  churches  with  the  church 
of  Rome  on  the  ground  of  mutual  concession  ;  and  had  intimated 
that  some  were  still  prosecuting  that  design.  This  intimation 
awakened  the  wTath  of  one  Mr.  Thomas  Pierce,  who  replied  by  an 
abusive  attack  on  Baxter  and  the  Puritans,  making  it,  however,  his 
principal  business  to  defend  Grotius.  To  this  Baxter  responded  in 
his  "  Grotian  Religion  discovered."  The  controversy  seems  to 
have  excited  a  great  interest,  as  it  was  in  fact  an  examination  of  the 
Popish  tendencies  ascribed  to  the  Arminian  prelatists  of  those  days, 
the  followers  of  Laud.  "This  book,"  he  says,  "the  printer  abus- 
ed, printing  every  section  so  distant,  to  fill  up  paper,  as  if  they  had 
been  several  chapters,"  Few  authors,  in  these  days,  would  com- 
plain of  such  "  abuse." 

32.  "  Four  Disputations  of  Justification."  4to.  published  in  1658. 
This  work  was  designed  as  a  further  explanation  and  defense  of  his 
supposed  peculiar  views  on  that  subject.  It  was  a  continuation  of 
the  controversy  which  had  grown  out  of  the  publication  of  his 
Aphorisms. 


*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  117.  1  Ibid.  p.  117.  J  Ibid.  p.  119. 


LIFE  OF  EICHARD  BAXTER.  135 

33.  "  A  Key  for  the  Catholics,  to  open  the  JuggUng  of  the  Jes- 
uits, and  satisfy  all  that  are  but  truly  willing  to  understand,  whether 
the  cause  of  the  Roman  or  Reformed  Churches  is  of  God."  4to. 
published  in  1659.  "  Those  that  were  not  prejudiced  against  this 
book,"  he  says,  "  have  let  me  know  that  it  hath  not  been  without  suc- 
cess ;  it  being  indeed  a  sufficient  armory  for  to  furnish  a  Protest- 
ant to  defend  his  religion  against  all  the  assaults  of  the  Papists 
whatsoever;  and  teacheth  him  how  to  ansv/er  all  their  books. 
The  second  part  doth  briefly  deal  with  the  French  and  Grotian 
party,  that  are  for  the  supremacy  of  a  council,  at  least  as  to  the  le- 
gislative power ;  and  showeth  that  we  ne\  er  had  a  general  council, 
nor  can  it  be  at  all  expected."* 

34.  "  Holy  Commonwealth  ;  or,  Political  Aphorisms :  opening 
the  true  Principles  of  Government ;  for  the  Healing  of  the  Mistakes, 
and  resolving  the  Doubts,  that  most  endanger  and  trouble  England 
at  this  Time  ;  and  directing  the  Desires  of  sober  Christians,  that 
long  to  see  the  Kingdoms  of  this  World  become  the  Kingdoms  of 
the  Lord  and  of  his  Christ."  8vo.  published  in  1659.  This 
work  was  published  at  a  moment  of  peculiar  interest.  Oliver  Crom- 
well had  gone  from  this  throne  to  the  grave.  Richard  had  suc- 
ceeded to  the  protectorate  without  any  apparent  opposition  ;  but  his 
hand  was  too  feeble  to  hold  the  iron  scepter  which  his  father  had 
swayed  with  so  great  ability.  The  leaders  of  the  ai'my  were  making 
arrangements  to  regain  the  power  which  they  considered  theirs  by 
right  of  conquest ;  and  the  republican  politicians,  whom  the  protec- 
tor had  so  disappointed  and  baffled,  were  again  beginning  to  hope 
for  the  speedy  consummation  of  their  schemes.  Another  man,  in 
such  circumstances,  might  have  waited  to  see  which  way  the  tide 
would  turn,  before  venturing  on  any  political  discussion.  But 
Baxter  rarely  acted  with  any  reference  to  pei-sonal  expediency  ;  and 
at  this  very  juncture,  even  when  Richard  Cromwell  had  already 
abdicated,  he  came  out  with  a  book,  in  tlie  former  part  of  which  he 
pleaded  for  a  monarchical  form  of  government,  and  in  the  conclusion 
of  which  he  eloquently  defended  the  war  of  parliament  against  the 
usurpations  of  Charles.  Thus  he  equally  displeased  the  re])ubli- 
cans,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  royalists  on  the  other.  But  let  us 
hear  his  own  account  of  the  book,  and  of  the  occasion  on  which  it 
was  written. 

"  The  book  which  hath  furnished  my  enemies  with  matter  of  re- 
viling which  none  must  dare  to  answer,  is  my  '  Holy  Common- 
wealth.' The  occasion  of  it  was  this  ;  when  our  pretorian  sectarian 
bands  had  cut  all  bonds,  pulled  down  all  government,  and,  after  the 

*  Narrative,  Part  I.  p.  118. 


136  LIFE    OF    PaCHARD    BAXTER. 

death  of  the  king,  had  twelve  years  kept  out  his  son,  few  men  saw 
any  probability  of  his  restitution,  and  every  self-conceited  fellow 
was  ready  to  offer  his  model  for  a  new  form  of  government.  Mr. 
Hobbes's  '  Leviathan'' had  pleased  many.  Mr.  Thomas  White,  the 
great  Papist,  had  written  his  Politics  in  English,  for  the  interest  of 
the  protector,  to  prove  that  subjects  ought  to  submit  and  subject 
themselves  to  such  a  change.  And  now  Mr.  James  Harrington 
(they  say,  by  the  help  of  Mr.  Neville)  had  written  a  book  in  folio 
for  a  democracy,  called  Oceana,  seriously  describing  a  form  near  to 
the  Venetian,  and  setting  the  people  upon  the  desires  of  a  change. 
After  this,  Sir  H.  Vane  and  his  party  were  about  their  sectarian 
democratical  model,  which  Stubbs  defended.  Rogers,  Needham, 
and  Mr.  Bagshaw,  had  also  written  against  monarchy  before.  In 
the  end  of  an  epistle  before  my  book  of '  Crucifying  the  World,'  I 
had  spoken  a  few  words  against  this  innovation  and  opposition  to 
monarchy ;  and,  having  especially  touched  upon  '  Oceana '  and 
'  Leviathan,'  Mr.  Harrington  seemed  in  a  Bethlehem  rage  ;  for,  by 
way  of  scorn,  he  printed  half  a  sheet  of  foolish  jeers,  in  such  ■tvords 
as  idiots  or  drunkards  use,  railing  at  ministers  as  a  pack  of  fool?  and 
knaves  ;  and,  by  his  gibberish  derision,  persuading  men  that  we 
deserve  no  other  answer  than  such  scorn  and  nonsense  as  beseem- 
eth  fools.  With  most  insolent  pride  he  can^ied  it,  as  if  neither  I 
nor  any  ministers  understood  at  all  what  policy  was,  but  prated 
against,  we  knew  not  what,  and  had  presumed  to  speak  against 
other  men's  art,  which  he  w^as  master  of,  and  his  knowledge,  to 
such  idiots  as  we,  incomprehensible.  This  made  me  think  it  fit, 
having  given  that  general  hint  against  his  '  Oceana,'  to  give  a  more 
particular  charge,  and  withal  to  give  the  world  and  him  an  account 
of  my  political  principles,  to  show  what  I  held,  as  well  as  what  I 
denied ;  which  1  did  in  that  book  called  '  Holy  Commonwealth,'  as 
contrary  to  his  heathenish  commonwealth.  In  which  I  pleaded  the 
cause  of  monarchy  as  better  than  democracy  and  aristocracy  ;  but 
as  under  God,  the  universal  Monarch.  Here  Bishop  Morley  hath 
his  matter  of  charge  against  me,  of  which  one  part  is,  that  I  spake 
against  unhnjited  monarchy,  because  God  himself  hath  limited  all 
monarchs.  If  I  had  said  laws  limit  monarchs,  I  might,  amongst 
some  men,  be  thought  a  traitor  and  inexcusable ;  but  to  say  that 
God  limiteth  monarchs,  I  thought  had  never  before  been  chargeable 
with  treason,  or  opposed  by  any  that  believed  that  there  is  a  God. 
If  they  are  indeed  unlimited  in  respect  of  God,  we  have  many  Gods 
or  no  God.  But  now  it  is  dangerous  to  meddle  with  these  matters, 
most  men  say,  Let  God  defend  himself. 

"  In  the  end  of  this  book  is  an  appendix  concerning  the  cause  of 
the  parliament's  first  war."     "  And  this  paper  it  is  that  containeth 


LIFE    OP   RICHARD    BAXTER.  137 

all  my  crimes.  Against  this,  one  Tomkins  wrote  a  book  called 
*  The  Rebel's  Plea.'  But  I  wait  in  silence  till  God  enlighten  us."* 
For  this  book  the  author  was  reproached  and  vilified  through  all 
the  remainder  of  his  life.  It  was  honored  by  a  decree  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  Oxford,  which  consigned  it  to  the  fire  in  company  with 
other  defenses  of  British  freedom. 

35.  "A  Treatise  of  Death,  the  last  Enemy  to  be  destroyed: 
showing  wherein  its  Enmity  consisteth,  and  how  it  is  to  be  destroy- 
ed. Part  of  it  was  preached  at  the  funeral  of  Elizabeth,  the  late 
Wife  of  Mr.  Joseph  Baker,  Pastor  of  the  Church  of  St.  Andrews 
in  Worcester.  With  some  Passages  of  the  Life  of  the  said  Mrs. 
Baker  observed."  8vo.  This  is  a  work  of  nearly  a  hundred  pages, 
first  published  in  1659. 

36.  "A  Treatise  of  Self-Denial."  4to.  published  in  1659.  This 
is  a  work  of  nearly  four  hundred  pages,  "which,"  he  says,  "found 
better  acceptance  than  most  of  my  other  books,  but  yet  prevented 
not  the  ruin  of  church,  and  state,  and  millions  of  souls  by  the  sin  of 
selfishness." 

37.  "  Catholic  Unity :  or  the  only  Way  to  bring  us  all  to  be  of 
one  Religion.  To  be  read  by  such  as  are  offended  at  the  Differ- 
ences in  Religion,  and  are  willing  to  do  their  Part  to  heal  them." 
12mo.  published  in  1659. 

38.  "  The  True  Catholic,  and  Catholic  Church  described ;  and 
the  Vanity  of  the  Papists,  and  all  other  Schismatics,  that  confine 
the  Catholic  Church  to  their  Sect,  discovered  and  shamed."  12mo. 
published  in  1659. 

These  two  works  were  sermons  which  he  had  formerly  preach- 
ed, one  in  London,,  and  the  other  in  Worcester.  They  came  out 
at  a  time  when  the  nation  was  in  a  revolutionary  state.  The  Pres- 
byterians were  hoping  to  regain  their  political  ascendency.  Bax- 
ter probably  thought  it  a  favorable  time  to  speak  once  more  in  be- 
half of  those  tmly  catholic  principles,  for  which  he  had  so  zealously 
labored.  These  pamphlets  were  published  in  December ;  in  the 
April  following  (1660)  he  came  to  London,  and  his  labors  with  his 
beloved  flock  he  was  never  permitted  to  resume. 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  118, 119. 
VOL.   I.  18 


PART  FOURTH. 

FROM  THE  YEAR  1660  TO  THE  YEAR  1665. 


The  death  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  which  took  place  on  the  third 
of  September,  1658,  was  soon  followed  by  great  and  amazing 
changes  in  the  commonwealth  which  he  had  so  long  and  prosper- 
ously governed.  His  eldest  son,  Richard,  succeeded  to  the  vacant 
throne,  as  peaceably,  and  received  the  congratulations  of  the  nation, 
on  his  accession,,  as  unanimously,  as  if  he  had  traced  back  his  title 
through  a  line  of  kings,  even  to  the  age  of  William  the  Conqueror. 
But  Richard  had  little  of  the  talent,  and  less  of  the  spirit,  of  his 
father.  The  hopes  of  the  disappointed  republicans  began  to  re- 
vive. A  parliament  was  summoned,  the  majority  of  which,  with 
the  Presbyterian  part  of  the  army,  w^as  friendly  to  the  young  pro- 
tector. The  principal  officers  of  the  army,  however,  some  from 
disappointed  ambition,  antl  some  from  principle  as  republicans, 
soon  began  to  enter  into  cabals  against  him.  In  an  unfortunate 
moment,  he  was  persuaded  to  consent  to  the  meeting  of  a  "  gen- 
eral council  of  officers ;"  and  from  that  moment  the  military 
aristocracy,  which  had  governed  before  Oliver  concentrated  the 
power  into  his  own  hands,  was  revived.  The  parliament,  alarmed 
at  this  movement,  made  an  ineffectual  resistance.  The  heads  of 
the  army  demanded  of  the  protector  the  dissolution  of  the  parlia- 
ment. Richard  saw  that  his  refusal  would  immediately  involve 
the  nation  in  another  civil  war;  he  felt  himself  unequal  to  such  a 
conflict;  his  kind  and  peaceful  temper  shrunk  from  the  prospect 
of  bloodshed ;  and  the  parliament  was  instantly  dissolved.  A  few 
days  afterwards,  he  formally  abdicated  his  authority,  and  retired  to 
private  life,  probably  without  a  sigh  over  his  fallen  grandeur.  In 
the  obscurity,  for  which  his  nature  fitted  him,  he  lived,  respected 
for  his  private  virtues,  and  unmolested,  through  several  succeeding 
reigns. 

The  "council  of  officers"  found  themselves  once  more  at  the 
head  of  the  British  empire.  By  them,  the  remnant  of  the  old 
Long  Parliament,  the  despised  and  hated  Rump,  was  revived  and 
reinstated  in  its  authority,  as  it  existed  immediately  before  its  dis- 
solution by  Oliver  Cromwell.     No  movement  could  have  had  more 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  139 

effect  in  wakening  universal  alarm  and  indignation.  The  Pres- 
byterians, though  they  might  have  been  contented  under  the  ad- 
ministration of  Richard,  were  many  of  them  loyalists  upon  princi- 
ple, and  were  all  opposed  to  every  thought  of  such  a  common- 
wealth as  either  the  military  republicans  of  the  ai'my,  or  the 
political  enthusiasts  of  the  Rump,  would  have  erected.  An  ex- 
tensive conspiracy  was  entered  into  between  the  cavaliers  and  the 
'Presbyterians  ;  and  the  restoration  of  the  old  monarchy  was  secretly 
agreed  upon,  as  the  only  refuge  from  the  anarchy  in  which  the 
nation  seemed  likely  to  be  involved.  On  an  appointed  day,  the 
conspirators  were  to  rise  in  all  parts  of  England,  and  Charles  had 
already  arrived  at  Calais,  with  the  intention  of  immediately  passing 
over  and  putting  himself  at  the  head  of  the  insurrection.  But  that 
contemptible  and  profligate  prince  was  always  surrounded  by  asso- 
ciates as  unprincipled  as  himself,  who  supported  their  profligacy 
by  betraying  all  his  counsels  to  his  enemies.  Thus  this  projected 
effort  was  disclosed,  just  in  time  to  prevent  that  unanimous  and 
sim.ultaneous  movement  which  alone  could  be  successful.  The 
cavaliers,  Baxter  says,  failed  to  perform  their  part  of  the  engage- 
ment. Sir  George  Booth  and  Sir  William  Middleton,  two  Presby- 
terian officers  of  the  old  parliamentary  armies,  succeeded  in  raising 
about  five  thousand  men  in  North  Wales  and  the  adjoining  counties, 
and  took  possession  of  the  city  of  Chester,  declaring  for  "  a  fi'ee 
parliament."  This  rising  was  soon  suppressed  by  a  detachment  of 
the  standing  army ;  but  it  was  immediately  followed  by  a  rupture 
between  the  military  leaders  and  the  Rump,  which  ended  in  an- 
other dissolution  of  that  body.  The  council  of  officers  again  took 
it  upon  themselves  to  settle  the  nation ;  and  by  them  a  committee 
of  safety  was  appointed,  with  ample  powers  for  the  temporary  ad- 
ministration of  the  government.     This  w^as  in  October,  1659. 

General  Monk  was  a  man  in  whose  military  talents  and  fidelity 
Cromwell  seems  to  have  reposed  much  confidence  ;  and  he  had . 
for  many  years  commanded  the  army  in  Scotland.  He  had  peace- 
ably and  submissively  acknowledged  not  only  the  government  of 
Richard,  but  that  of  the  restored  parliament.  When  that  parlia- 
ment was  again  dissolved  by  the  same  military  usurpation  which 
had  revived  it.  Monk,  urged  by  the  solicitations  of  the  various  dis- 
contented parties,  made  arrangements  to  march  into  England,  and 
wrote  to  the  military  usurpers  there,  chiding  them  for  the  violence 
which  they  had  put  upon  parliament.  As  he  advanced,  men  of 
every  party  looked  to  him  with  strong  hope.  He  had  been  an 
Independent ;  and  the  Independents,  wliile  they  were  not  without 
fear  in  regard  to  his  designs,  hoped  for  the  establishment  of  a  re- 
public on  the  foundation  of  civil  and  religious  freedom.  He  purged 
fiis  army  of  all  those  officers  whom  lie  suspected  of  any  sympathy 


140  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

with  the  men  he  was  going  to  encounter ;  and  as  these  officers 
were  generally  Anabaptists,  the  Presbyterians  began  to  hope  that 
covenant  uniformity  would  come  again  cut  of  Scotland  in  its  former 
glory.  The  parliament  hoped  for  another  restoration  of  their 
power;  for  he  had  acknowledged  their  recent  authority,  and  now 
he  seemed  to  espouse  their  quarrel.  The  cavaliers  hoped  that 
either  by  negotiation  he  might  be  persuaded,  or  by  the  force  of 
circumstances  he  might  be  compelled,  to  declare  for  their  cause.' 
Lambert,  who,  in  talent  and  influence,  was  the  head  of  the  new 
government,  marched  with  a  great  part  of  the  army  to  repel  this 
invasion.  But  every  where  he  found  the  passions  and  hopes  of 
the  people  against  him.  His  own  soldiers  soon  began  to  desert 
him.  The  regiments  left  in  London  revolted  ;  and,  supported  .by 
them,  the  Rump  once  more  resumed  the  government  of  the  three 
nations. 

But  after  the  ostensible  object  with  which  Monk  commenced  his 
march  into  England  was  already  attained,  he  still  continued  to 
advance  with  all  his  forces,  not  waiting  for  any  orders  from  the 
restored  parliament.  The  Rump,  though  not  fully  assured  of  his 
fidelity  to  them,  could  not  venture  to  order  back  their  deliverer 
into  his  own  province.  They  therefore  only  expressed  their  desire 
that  a  good  part  of  his  forces  might  be  sent  back  into  Scotland. 
He  complied  with  that  request ;  but  still-  continued  his  progress 
with  about  five  thousand  men,  on  whom  he  knew  he  could  depend. 
The  people  were  generally  in  his  favor;  and  he  encountered  no 
opposition.  It  was  widely  understood  that  he  was  in  favor  of  a 
new  and  free  parliament ;  though  all  his  public  declarations  were 
full  of  fidelity  to  the  parliament  then  existing.  AVhen  he  had 
arrived  within  twenty  or  thirty  miles  of  London,  he  sent  a  message 
to  the  parliament,  requesting  that  the  regiments  then  quartered 
about  the  city  might  be  withdrawn,  lest  there  should  fall  out  some 
collision  between  them  and  his  troops.  With  this  request  they 
were  constrained  to  comply ;  and  on  the  third  of  Febmary ,  1 660, 
Monk,  at  the  head  of  his  army,  entered  the  metropolis  as  in  triumph, 
and  quartered  with  his  troops  in  Wesiniinster. 

After  a  few  days  of  indecision,  the  general  declared  himself 
openly  for  the  Presbyterian  interest,  and  for  a  commonwealth  in 
which  there  should  be  neither  king  nor  protector,  nor  house  of 
lords ;  and,  supported  by  his  authority,  those  members  who  were 
excluded  in  1648,  again  took  their  seats  in  parliament.  The  ma- 
jority of  the  house  were  now  Presbyterians  ;  and,  as  Presbyterians, 
they  began  to  take  measures  which  looked  toward  the  restoration 
of  the  monarchy,  on  such  terms  and  with  such  limitations  as  should 
be  agreeable  to  their  party.  They  appointed  a  new  council  of 
state  for  the  temporary  administration  of  the  government ;  and,  on 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  141 

the  seventeenth  of  March,  having  provided  for  the  election  of  a 
new  parliament,  to  meet  on  the  twenty-fifth  of  the  ensuing  month, 
they  passed  the  act  of  their  own  dissolution. 

The  act  for  the  election  of  the  new  parliament  had  directed  that 
none  who  had  been  in  arms  against  the  Long  Parliament  should  be 
elected.  Having  put  up  this  defense  against  the  cavaliers,  the 
Presbyterians  used  their  diligence  to  prevent  the  election  of  men 
of  republican  principles.  This  diligence  of  theirs  was  ill-timed ; 
it  amalgamated  them  for  the  moment  with  their  oldest,  bitterest, 
and  most  irreconcilable  enemies ;  their  own  voices  were  drowned 
in  the  clamor  which  themselves  had  begun  for  the  king,  and  against 
the  commonwealth ;  and  the  result  was  that,  in  many  places,  the 
loyalty  of  the  people  broke  over  the  barrier  of  the  disabling  clause, 
and  elected  old  cavaliers  to  negotiate  with  the  king  about  his  res- 
toration and  their  own,  and  in  many  other  places  the  members 
elected  were  equally  unworthy  to  be  trusted  with  the  liberties  of 
the  nation. 

When  Monk  saw  that  the  tide  of  popular  feeling  was  turned  for 
the  king,  he  fell  in  with  the  current,  and  commenced  a  secret  cor- 
respondence with  Charles,  advising  him  to  be  in  readiness  for  an 
immediate  return. 

As  soon  as  the  new  parliament  came  together,  it  was  no  longer 
doubtful  that  all  things  were  ripe  for  restoration,  and  for  a  com})lete 
triuniph  of  the  old  royalists.  In  a  word,  the  king  was  recalled 
without  any  condition,  and  without  any  security  for  that  civil  and 
religious  liberty  which  the  people  had  wrested  from  his  father  in  a 
painful  conflict.  A  strange  infatuation  seized  upon  the  nation ; 
and  if  Charles  had  been  restored  by  the  bayonets  of  the  French 
and  Spanish  monarchies,  he  could  not  have  come  in  on  terms  more 
favorable  to  himself  and  his  partisans.  He  arrived  at  London  on 
the  29th  of  May,  1660. 

Baxter  came  irom  Kidderminster  to  London,  in  April,  just  before 
the  assembling  of  the  parliament.  What  his  business  was  in  coming 
to  the  metropolis  at  that  time,  he  does  not  inform  us.  We  may 
safely  suppose,  however,  that  he  came  to  be  present  with  his  Pres- 
byterian friends,  and  to  aid  by  his  counsels  and  activity  in  the  great 
matter  of  the  restoration.  That  the  king  should  be  restored,  the 
Presbyterians  were  all  agreed ;  and  their  vain  hope  was  that,  by 
their  forwardness  in  bringing  him  back,  they  might  secure  the  es- 
tablishment of  their  ecclesiastical  system,  or  at  least  of  something 
so  much  like  h,  that  they  could  live  under  it  in  peace.  This  ex- 
ceeding forwardness  of  theirs  defeated,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
its  own  object,  and  gave  their  bitterest  enemies  the  greatest  possible 
advantage  over  them.  Many  of  them  trembled  at  the  turn  which 
affairs  were  taking,  and  at  the  part  which  they  themselves  were 


142  LIFE    OF    RICHARD   BAXTER. 

acting ;  but  others,  in  the  fever  of  their  loyalty,  hoped  much  from 
the  gratitude  of  Charles,  and  trusted  to  the  notion  of  his  having 
learned  wisdom  from  the  fate  of  his  father,  and  suffered  themselves 
to  be  duped  by  the  letters  which  his  courtiers  procured  to  be  written 
from  France  and  Holland  commending  his  devotion  and  his  zeal 
for  the  Protestant  religion. 

"When  I  was  at  London,"  says  Baxter,  "the  new  parliament 
being  called,  they  presently  appointed  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer 
for  themselves.  The  house  of  commons  chose  Mr.  Calamy,  Dr. 
Gauden,  and  myself,  to  preach  and  pray  with  them  at  St.  Marga- 
ret's, Westminster.  In  that  sermon,  I  uttered  some  passages  which 
were  afterwards  matter  of  some  discourse.  Speaking  of  our  dif- 
ferences, and  the  way  to  heal  them,  I  told  them  that  whether  we 
should  be  loyal  to  our  king  was  none  of  our  differences.  In  that, 
we  were  all  agreed  ;  it  being  not  possible  that  a  man  should  be  true 
to  the  Protestant  principles,  and  not  be  loyal ;  as  it  was  impossible 
to  be  true  to  the  Papist  principles,  and  to  be  loyal.  And  for  the 
concord  now  wished  in  matters  of  church  government,  I  told  them 
it  was  easy  for  moderate  men  to  come  to  a  fair  agreement,  and  that 
the  late  reverend  primate  of  Ireland  and  myself  had  agreed  in  half 
an  hour.  I  remember  not  the  very  words,  but  you  may  read  them 
in  the  serriion,  which  was  printed  by  order  of  the  house  of  com- 
mons." "  The  next  morning  after  this  day  of  fasting,  the  parlia- 
ment unanimously  voted  home  the  king." 

"  The  city  of  London,  about  that  time,  was  to  keep  a  day  of 
solemn  thanksgiving  for  General  Monk's  success ;  and  the  lord 
mayor  and  aldermen  desired  me  to  preach  before  them  at  St.  Paul's 
church  ;  wherein  I  so  endeavored  to  show  the  value  of  that  mercy, 
as  to  show,  also,  how  sin  and  men's  abuse  might  turn  it  into  matter 
of  calamity,  and  what  should  be  right  bounds  and  qualifications  of 
that  joy.  The  moderate  were  pleased  with  it ;  the  fanatics  were 
offended  with  me  for  keeping  such  a  thanksgiving ;  and  the  dioce- 
san party  thought  I  did  suppress  their  joy.  The  words  may  be 
seen  in  the  sermon  ordered  to  be  printed.  ^ 

"  But  the  other  words  about  my  agreement  with  Bishop  Usher, 
in  the  sermon  before  the  parliament,  put  me  to  most  trouble.  For 
presently  many  moderate  Episcopal  divines  came  to  me  to  know 
what  those  terms  of  our  agreement  were.  And  thinking  verily  thaj; 
others  of  their  party  had  been  as  moderate  as  themselves,  they 
entered  upon  debates  for  our  generaj  concord ;  and  we  agreed  as 
easily  among  ourselves  in  private,. as' rf  almost  all  our  differences 
were  at  an  end.  Among  otliers,  I  had  speech  about  it  with  Dr. 
Gauden,  who  promised  to  bring  Dr.  Morley  and  many  more  of 
that  party  to  meet  with  some  of  the  other  party  at  Dr.  Bernard's 
lodgings.     There  came  none  on  that  side  but  Dr.  Gauden  and  Dr. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  143 

Bernard ;  and  none  of  the  other  side  but  Dr.  Manton  and  myself; 
and  so  little  was  done,  but  only  desires  of  concord  expressed." 
"  Thus  men  were  every  day  talking  of  concord,  but  to  little  pur- 
pose, as  appeared  in  the  issue." 

"  When  the  king  was  sent  for  by  the  parliament,  certain  divines, 
with  others,  were  also  sent  by  the  parliament  and  city  to  him  into 
Holland,  viz.  Mr.  Calamy,  Dr.  Manton,  Mr.  Bowles,  and  divers 
other ;  and  some  went  voluntarily  ;  to  whom  his  majesty  gave  such 
encouraging  promises  of  peace,  as  raised  some  of  them  to  high  ex- 
pectations. And  when  he  came  in,  as  he  passed  through  the  city 
towards  Westminster,  the  London  ministers  in  their  places  attended 
him  with  acclamations,  and  by  the  hands  of  old  Mr.  Arthur  Jack- 
son, presented  him  with  a  richly  adorned  Bible,  which  he  received, 
and  told  them,  it  should  be  the  rule  of  his  actions."* 

For  a  while  after  the  restoration,  it  seemed  necessary  to  cajole  the 
Presbyterians  with  the  hope  of  an  improved  liturgy,  and  of  such 
changes  in  respect  to  episcopacy  as  would  admit  of  their  being  in- 
cluded within  the  pale  of  the  establishment.  With  this  view,  ten 
or  twelve  of  the  leading  Presbyterian  ministers  were  nominated  to 
be  the  king's  chaplains  in  ordinary.  Mr.  Calamy  and  Dr.  Reynolds 
were  first  appointed  ;  soon  afterwards  Mr.  Ash  and  Mr.  Baxter  ; 
then  Dr.  Spurstow,  Dr.  Wallis,  Dr.  Bates  and  others.  None  of 
them,  however,  were  ever  called  to  preach  at  court  except  Calamy, 
Reynolds,  Baxter,  and  Spurstow,  each  of  them  a  single  sermon. 
Baxter's  sermon  before  the  king  was  published,  and  was  afterwards 
included  in  his  work  entitled  the  'Life  of  Faith.'  Not  many 
kings,  since  King  Agrippa,  have  had  the  advantage  of  hearing  the 
word  of  God  so  plainly  and  powerfully  preached,  as  Baxter  preach- 
ed it  to  King  Charles  IL  on  that  occasion.  The  discourse  was 
evidently  written  with  more  attention  to  style  than  the  author  ordi- 
narily bestowed  on  such  matters ;  yet,  in  its  bold  and  pungent  ex- 
hibition of  the  truth,  it  is  like  all  his  other  waitings.  The  sermon 
contains  no  direct  address  to  the  king,  nor  even  one  distinct  allusion 
to  him.  But  there  are  many  passages  pointed  in  that  peculiar  way 
which  must  have  made  them  felt  by  the  monarch  and  his  profligate 
attendants.  "  Faith,"  said  the  preacher,  "  is  the  wisdom  of  the 
soul ;  and  unbelief  and  sensuality  are  its  blindness,  folly  and  brut- 
ishness."  "  Will  you  persuade  us  that  the  man  is  wise,  that  can 
climb  a  little  higher  than  his  neighbors,  that  he  may  have  the  great- 
er fall  ?  that  is  attended  in  h>s  way  to  hell  with  greater  pomp  and 
state  than  others  ?  that  can  sin  more  syllogistically  and  rhetorically 
than  the  vulgar ;  and  more  prudently  and  gravely  run  into  damna- 
tion ;  and  can  learnedly  defend  his  madness,  and  prove  that  he  is 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  2i7,  218. 


144  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

safe  at  the  brink  of  hell  ?  Would  you  persuade  us  that  he  is  wise, 
tha*  contradicts  the  God  and  rule  of  wisdom,  and  that  parts  with 
heaven  for  a  few  merry  hours,  and  hath  not  wit  to  save  his  eoul  ? 
When  they  see  the  end,  and  are  arrived  at  eternity,  let  them  boast 
of  their  wisdom,  as  they  find  cause  :  we  will  take  them  then  for  more 
competent  judges.  Let  the  eternal  God  be  the  portion  of  my 
soul ;  let  heaven  be  my  inheritance  and  hope ;  let  Christ  be  my 
Head,  and  the  promise  my  security  ;  let  faith  be  my  wisdom,  and 
love  be  my  very  heart  and  will,  and  patient,  persevering  obedience 
be  my  life  ; — and  then  I  can  spare  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  because 
I  can  spare  the  trifles  that  it  seeks,  and  all  that  they  are  like  to 
get  by  it." 

Not  long  after  the  king's  return,  Baxter,  in  an  interview  with 
Lord  Broghill  and  the  earl  of  Manchester,  two  noblemen,  who, 
though  known  as  Presbyterians,  were  men  of  some  influence  at 
court  on  account  of  their  great  services  in  promoting  the  restoration, 
spoke  of  the  conversations  which  he  had  held  with  some  Episcopal 
divines,  respecting  union  in  the  church ;  and  urged  the  importance 
of  a  conference  between  the  leading  men  of  the  two  parties,  for  the 
sake  of  finding  on  what  terms  a  union  might  be  effected.  On  this 
suggestion  Broghill  "  proposed  to  the  king  a  conference  for  an 
agreement ; "  and  within  a  few  days  Baxter  and  Calamy  were  in- 
formed that  the  king  was  pleased  with  that  proposal,  and  was 
resolved  to  further  it.  This  led  to  a  personal  interview  between 
the  king  and  his  ten  Presbyterian  chaplains,  which  took  place  about 
the  middle  of  June,  at  the  earl  of  Manchester's  lodgings.  Of  the 
part  which  Baxter  acted  in  this  interview,  we  have  a  fuU  account 
from  his  own  pen. 

"■  We  exercised  more  boldness,  at  first,  than  afterwards  would 
have  been  borne.  When  some  of  the  rest  had  congratulated  his 
majesty's  happy  restoration,  and  declared  the  large  hope  which  they 
had  of  a  cordial  union  among  all  dissenters  by  his  means,  I  presum- 
ed to  speak  to  him  of  the  concernments  of  religion,  and  how  far 
we  were  from  desiring  the  continuance  of  any  factions  or  parties  in 
the  church,  and  how  much  a  happy  union  would  conduce  to  the 
good  of  theland,  and  to  his  majesty's  satisfaction;  aad  though  there 
were  turbulent,  fanatic  persons  in  his  dominions,  yet  that  those  min- 
isters and  godly  people  whose  peace  we  humbly  craved  of  him, 
were  no  such  persons ;  but  such  as  longed  after  concord,  and  were 
truly  loyal  to  him,  and  desired  no  more  than  to  live  under  him  a 
quiet  and  peaceable  life,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty.  And  where- 
as there  were  differences  between  them  and  their  brethren,  about 
some  ceremonies  or  discipline  of  the  church,  we  humbly  craved  his 
majesty's  favor  for  the  ending  of  those  differences  ;  it  being  easy  for 
him  to  interpose,  that  so  the  people  might  not  be  deprived  of  their 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER,  145 

faithful  pastors,  nor  ignorant,  scandalous,  unworthy  ones  obtruded 
on  them. 

"  I  presumed  to  tell  him,  that  the  people  we  spoke  for  were  such 
as  were  contented  with  an  interest  in  heaven,  and  the  liberty  and 
advantages  of  the  gospel  to  promote  it ;  and  that  if  these  were  taken 
from  them,  and  they  were  deprived  of  their  faithful  pastors,  and 
hberty  of  worshiping  God,  they  would  take  themselves  as  undone 
in  this  world,  whatever  plenty  else  they  should  enjoy ;  and  the 
hearts  of  his  most  iaithful  subjects,  who  hoped  for  his  help,  would 
even  be  broken ;  and  we  doubted  not  but  his  majesty  desired  to 
govern  a  people  made  happy  by  him,  and  not  a  broken-hearted 
people,  who  took  themselves  to  be  undone  by  the  loss  of  that  which 
is  dearer  to  them  than  all  the  riches  of  the  world.  I  presumed  to 
tell  him,  that  the  late  usurpers  that  were  over  us,  so  well  under- 
stood their  own  interest,  that,  to  promote  it,  they  had  found  the 
way  of  doing  good  to  be  the  most  effectual  means ;  and  had  placed 
and  encouraged  many  thousand  faithful  ministers  in  the  church, 
even  such  as  detested  their  usurpation ;  and  so  far  had  they  attain- 
ed their  ends  hereby,  that  it  was  the  principal  means  of  their  inte- 
rest in  the  people,  and  the  good  opinion  that  many  had  conceived 
of  them,  and  those  of  them  that  had  taken  the  contrary  course  had 
thereby  broken  themselves  in  pieces.  Wherefore,  I  humbly  crav- 
ed his  majesty,  that,  as  he  was  our  lawful  king,  in  whom  all  his 
people  were  prepared  to  centre,  so  he  would  be  pleased  to  under- 
take this  blessed  work  of  promoting  their  holiness  and  concord;  for 
it  was  not  faction  or  disobedience  which  we  desired  him  to  indulge ; 
and  that  he  would  never  suffer  himself  to  be  tempted  to  undo  the 
good  which  Cromwell,  or  any  other,  had  done,  because  they  were 
usurpers  that  did  it ;  or  discountenance  a  faithful  ministry,  because 
his  enemies  had  set  them  up ;  but  that  he  would  rather  outgo  them 
in  doing  good,  and  opposing  and  rejecting  the  ignorant  and  ungod- 
ly, of  what  opinion  or  party  soever ;  for  the  people  whose  cause  we 
recommended  to  him,  had  their  eyes  on  him  as  the  officer  of  God,  to 
defend  them  in  the  possession  of  the  helps  of  their  salvation;  which 
if  he  were  pleased  to  vouchsafe  them,  their  estates  and  lives  would 
be  cheerfully  offered  to  his  service. 

"  And  I  humbly  besought  him  that  he  would  never  suffer  his 
subjects  to  be  tempted  to  have  favorable  thoughts  of  the  late  usurp- 
ers, by  seeing  the  vice  indulged  which  they  suppressed,  or  the 
godly  ministers  of  the  gospel  discountenanced  whom  they  encourag- 
ed ;  for  the  common  people  are  apt  to  judge  of  governors  by  the 
effects,  even  by  the  good  or  evil  which  they  feel,  and  they  will  take 
him  to  be  the  best  governor  who  doth  them  most  good,  and  him  to 
be  the  worst  who  doth  them  most  hurt.  And  all  his  enemies  could 
not  leach  him  a  more  effectual  way  to  restore  the  reputation  and 
VOL.  r.  19 


146  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

honor  of  the  usurpers  than  to  do  worse  than  they,  and  destroy  the 
good  which  they  had  done."  "  And,  again,  I  humbly  craved  that 
no  misrepresentations  might  cause  him  to  beheve,  that  because  some 
fanatics  have  been  factious  and  disloyal,  therefore  the  religious  peo- 
ple in  his  dominions,  who  are  most  careful  of  their  souls,  are  such, 
though  some  of  them  may  be  dissatisfied  about  some  forms  and 
ceremonies  in  God's  worship,  which  others  use  ;  and  that  none  of 
them  might  go  under  so  ill  a  character  with  him,  by  misreports  be- 
hind their  backs,  till  it  were  proved  of  them  personally,  or  they 
had  answered  for  themselves  ;  for  we,  that  better  knew  them  than 
those  likely  to  be  their  accusers,  did  confidently  testify  to  his  majes- 
ty on  their  behalf,  that  they  are  the  resolved  enemies  of  sedition,  re- 
bellion, disobedience,  and  divisions  ;  which  the  world  should  see, 
and  their  adversaries  be  convinced  of,  if  his  majesty's  wisdom  and 
clemency  did  but  remove  those  occasions  of  scruple  in  some  points 
of  discipline  and  worship  of  God,  which  give  advantage  to  others 
to  call  all  dissenters  factious  and  disobedient,  how  loyal  and  peacea- 
ble soever. 

"  I,  further,  humbly  craved,  that  the  freedom  and  plainness  of 
these  expressions  to  his  majesty  might  be  pardoned,  as  being  ex- 
tracted by  the  present  necessity,  and  encouraged  by  our  revived 
hopes.  I  told  him  also,  that  it  was  not  for  Presbyterians,  or  any 
party,  as  such,  that  we  were  speaking,  but  for  the  religious  part  of 
his  subjects  as  such,  than  whom  no  prince  on  earth  had  better.  I 
also  told  him  how  considerable  a  part  of  the  kingdom  he  would  find 
them  to  be ;  and  of  what  great  advantage  their  union  would  be  to 
his  majesty,  to  the  people,  and  to  the  bishops  themselves,  and  how 
easily  it  might  be  procured — by  making  only  things  necessary  to  be 
the  terms  of  union — by  the  true  exercise  of  church  discipline 
against  sin — and  by  not  casting  out  the  faithful  ministers  that  must 
exercise  it,  and  obtruding  unworthy  men  upon  the  people  ;  and  how 
easy  it  was  to  avoid  the  violating  of  men's  solemn  vows  and  cove- 
nants, without  hurt  to  any  others.  And,  finally,  1  requested  that  we 
might  be  heard  to  speak  for  ourselves,  when  any  accusations  were 
brought  against  us. 

"  These,  with  some  other  such  things,  I  then  spake,  when  some 
of  my  brethren  had  spoken  first.  Mr.  Simeon  Ash  also  spake 
much  to  the  same  purpose,  and  of  all  our  desires  of  his  majesty's 
assistance  in  our  desired  union.  The  king  gave  us  not  only  a  free 
audience,  but  as  gracious  an  answer  as  we  could  expect ;  professing 
his  gladness  to  hear  our  inclinations  to  agreement,  and  his  resolution 
to  do  his  part  to  bring  us  together ;  and  that  it  must  not  be  by 
bringing  one  party  over  to  the  other,  but  by  abating  somewhat  on 
both  sides,  and  meeting  in  the  midway ;  and  that  if  it  were  not 
accomplished,  it   should   be  owing  to  ourselves  and  not  to  him. 


LIFE  OF  KICHARD  BAXTER.  147 

Nay,  that  he  was  resolved  to  see  it  brought  to  pass,  and  that  he 
would  draw  us  together  himself,  with  some  more  to  that  purpose. 
Insomuch  that  old  Mr.  Ash  burst  out  into  tears  of  joy,  and  could 
not  forbear  expressing  what  gladness  this  promise  of  his  majesty 
had  put  into  his  heart."* 

About  the  same  time,  the  king  required  them  to  draw  up,  and 
bring  to  him,  their  own  proposals  for  an  agreement  with  the  Episco- 
pal party,  on  the  subject  of  church  government.  They  told  him 
they  were  only  a  k\v  individuals,  and  could  not  undertake  to  rep- 
resent the  opinions  or  the  wishes  of  their  brethren ;  and  therefore 
desired  leave  to  consult  with  their  brethren  in  the  country.  This 
was  refused,  on  the  ground  that  it  would  take  too  much  time,  and 
would  make  too  much  noise.  He  assured  them  that  his  intention 
was  only  to  consult  with  a  few  individuals  of  each  party.  On  their 
particular  request,  he  promised  them  that  when  they  offered  their 
concessions,  the  brethren  on  the  other  side  should  bring  in  theirs, 
and  should  state  the  utmost  that  they  could  yield  for  the  sake  of 
concord. 

Accordingly  they  held  a  few  meetings  at  Sion  College,  the  usual 
place  of  meeting  for  the  London  ministers.  Their  consultations 
were  with  open  doors,  and  as  many  of  their  brethren  as  chose, 
came  to  assist  them.  They  soon  agreed  on  their  proposals ;  and 
the  extent  of  their  concessions  may  be  judged  of  by  the  fact,  that 
the  papers  which  they  finally  presented  to  the  king  were  drawn  up 
mostly  by  Baxter,  and  by  Dr.  Reynolds  and  Dr.  Worth,  both  of 
whom  were  afterwards  dignitaries  in  the  church  of  England.  The 
amount  of  their  requests  vv^as  that  Episcopacy  might  be  reduced  to 
the  form  drawn  up  and  proposed  to  Charles  I.  by  Archbishop 
Usher,  in  the  year  1641  ;  a  scheme  in  which  the  prelate  became 
little  more  than  a  stated  president  in  the  synod  of  the  presbyters, 
having  the  power  of  a  negative  voice  on  all  their  acts. 

When  they  went  to  the  king  with  these  proposals,  expecting,  of 
course,  to  meet  there  some  divines  of  the  other  party,  with  their 
proposals  for  accommodation  and  union,  they  found  not  one  of  them 
tliere.  "  Yet  it  was  not  fit  for  us,"  says  Baxter,  "  to  expostulate 
or  complain.  But  his  majesty  very  graciously  renewed  his  profes- 
sions— I  must  not  call  them  promises — that  he  would  bring  us  to- 
gether, and  see  that  the  bishops  should  come  down  and  yield  on 
their  parts.  When  he  had  heard  our  papers,  he  seemed  well 
pleased  with  them,  and  told  us  he  was  glad  we  were  for  a  liturgy, 
and  yielded  to  the  essence  bf  Episcopacy,  and  therefore  he  doubted 
not  of  our  agreement,  with  much  more ;  which  we  thought  meet 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  230,  231. 


•f^ 


148  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

to  recite  in  our  following  addresses  by  way  of  gratitude,  and  for 
other  reasons  easy  to  be  conjectured." 

After  waiting  a  while  for  the  promised  proposals  of  the  opposite 
party,  they  received,  instead  of  what  they  expected,  only  a  sharp 
and  controversial  reply  to  the  papers  which  they  had  offered.  The 
bishops  had  determined  to  make  no  proposal  but  that  of  entire  con- 
formity to  the  old  episcopal  establishment.  Against  this  paper, 
Baxter,  at  the  request  of  his  brethren,  drew  up  a  defense  of  their 
proposals.  But  on  consideration,  it  was  judged  impolitic  to  provoke 
them  by  a  reply  such  as  he  had  prepared. 

Not  long  afterwards,  they  were  informed  that  another  course  had 
been  chosen ;  and  that  the  king  would  publish,  in  the  form  of  a 
royal  declaration,  all  his  intentions  on  the  subject  of  ecclesiastical 
affairs.  This  they  were  to  see  before  it  should  be  published,  that 
they  might  inform  the  king  of  whatever  might  be  in  their  view  in- 
consistent with  the  desired  concord.  A  draught  of  the  proposed 
declaration  was  accordingly  sent  them,  by  the  Lord  Ch.ancellor 
Hyde  (afterwards  earl  of  Clarendon.)  Having  perused  it,  they 
saw  that  it  would  not  serve  the  purpose  professed.  They  drew  up 
their  objections  in  the  form  of  a  petition  to  the  king,  the  paper  be- 
ing prepared  by  the  ready  pen  of  Baxter,  and  thoroughly  revised 
and  amended  by  his  brethren,  who  feared  that  the  boldness  and 
plainness  which  he  had  used  would  give  offense.  This  petition,  be- 
ing delivered  to  the  lord  chancellor,  was  still  so  ungrateful  to  his 
feelings,  that  he  never  called  them  to  present  it  to  the  king.  In- 
stead of  that,  he  proposed  to  them  to  present  the  precise  alterations 
in  the  royal  declaration  which  they  considered  absolutely  necessary. 
With  this  proposal  they  complied.  And  on  an  appointed  day, 
(22  Oct.  1660,)  they  met  the  king  at  the  lord  chancellor's  house, 
with  several  of  the  bishops  and  lords.  "  The  business  of  the  day," 
says  Baxter,  "  was  not  to  dispute  ;  but  as  the  lord  chancellor  read 
over  the  declaration,  each  party  was  to  speak  to  what  they  disliked, 
and  the  king  to  determine  how  it  should  be,  as  liked  himself." 
"  The  great  matter  which  we  stopped  at  was  the  word  consent, 
where  the  bishop  is  to  confirm  '  by  the  consent  of  the  pastor  of 
that  church  ; '  and  the  king  would  by  no  means  pass  the  word  '  con- 
sent,' either  there  or  in  the  point  of  ordination  or  censures,  because 
it  gave  the  ministers  a  negative  voice." 

In  connection  with  this  interview,  one  anecdote  recorded  by  Bax- 
ter deserves  to  be  repeated,  as  it  helps  to  illustrate  the  character  of 
all  the  parties  concerned.  The  king  was  already,  as  there  is  much 
reason  to  believe,  a  secret  Papist ;  at  least  he  was  determined  to 
go  as  far  as  he  dared,  in  promoting  the  interests  of  the  Papists. 
The  bishops  and  other  courtiers  had  no-  disposition  to  object  to 
what  they  knew  to  be  his  wishes.     The  Presbyterians,  with  all 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  149 

their  zeal  for  tlieir  own  liberty,  had  not  yet  learned  the  great  prin- 
ciple of  universal  toleration,  against  which  they  had  so  zealously 
contended  in  the  days  of  the  commonwealth  ;  and  Richard  -Baxter 
was  always  too  boldly  conscientious  not  to  speak  his  mind,  what- 
ever it  might  cost  him. 

"  The  itiost  of  the  time  being  spent  thus  in  speaking  to  particu- 
lars of  the  declaration,  as  it  was  read,  when  we  came  to  the  end, 
the  lord  chancellor  drew  out  another  paper,  and  told  us  that  the 
king  had  been  petitioned  also  by  the  Independents  and  Anabaptists  ; 
and  though  he  knew  not  what  to  think  of  it  himself,  and  did  not 
very  well  like  it,  yet  something  he  had  drawn  up  which  he  would 
read  to  us,  and  desire  us  also  to.  give  our  advice  about  it.  There- 
upon he  read,  as  an  addition  to  the  declaration,  '  that  others  also 
be  permitted  to  meet  for  religious  worship,  so  be  it  they  do  it  not 
to  the  disturbance  of  the  peace ;  and  that  no  justice  of  peace  or 
officer  disturb  them.'  When  he  had  read  it,  he  again  desired  them 
all  to  think  on  it,  and  give  their  advice  ;  but  all  were  silent.  The 
Presbyterians  all  perceived,  as  soon  as  they  heard  it,  that  it  would 
secure  the  liberty  of  the  Papists  ;  and  Dr.  Wjillis  whispered  me  in 
the  ear,  and  entreated  me  to  say  nothing,  for  it  was  an  odious  busi- 
ness, but  to  let  the  bishops  speak  to  it.  But  the  bishops  would  not 
speak  a  word,  nor  any  one  of  the  Presbyterians,  and  so  we  were  like 
to  have  ended  in  silence.  I  knew,  if  we  consented  to  it,  it  would  be 
charged  on  us,  that  we  spake  for  a  toleration  of  Papists  and  secta- 
ries ;  yet  it  might  have  lengthened  out  our  own.  And  if  we  spake 
against  it,  all  sects  and  parties  would  be  set  against  us  as  the  causers 
of  their  sufferings,  and  as  a  partial  people,  that  would  have  liberty 
ourselves,  but  would  have  no  others  have  it  with  us.  At  last,  see- 
ing the  silence  continue,  I  thought  our  very  silence  would  be  charg- 
ed on  us  as  consent,  if  it  went  on,  and  therefore  I  only  said  this  : 
'That  this  reverend  brother.  Dr.  Gunning,  even  now  speaking 
against  sects,  had  named  the  Papists  and  the  Socinians :  for  our 
parts,  we  desired  not  favor  to  ourselves  plone,  and  rigorous  severity 
we  desired  against  none.  As  we  humbly  thanked  h.is  majesty  for 
his  indulgence  to  ourselves,  so  we  distinguislied  the  tolerable  parties 
from  the  intolerable.  For  the  former,  we  humbly  craved  just  lenity 
and  favor;  but  for  the  latter,  such  as  the  two  sorts  named  before  by 
that  reverend  brother,  for  our  parts,  we  could  not  make  their  tolera- 
tion our  request.'  To  which  his  majesty  said,  '  there  were  laws 
enough  against  the  Papists;'  to  which  I  replied,  that  we  understood 
the  question  to  be,  whether  those  laws  should  be  executed  on  them 
or  not.     And  so  his  majesty  broke  up  the  meeting  of  that  day." 

"  When  I  went  out  ii'om  the  meeting,"  says  Baxter,  jn'cceeding 
with  his  narrative,  "  I  went  dejected,  as  being  fully  satisfied  that  the 


150  LIFE  OF  KICHARD  BAXTER. 

form  of  government  in  that  declaration  would  not  be  satisfactory, 
nor  attain  that  concord  which  was  our  end,  because  the  pastors  had 
no  govei-nment  of  the  flocks  ;  and  I  was  resolved  to  meddle  no  more 
in  the  business,  but -patiently  sufler  with  other  dissenters.  But 
two  or  three  days  after,  I  met  the  king's  declaration  cried  about  the 
streets,  and  I  presently  stepped  into  a  house  to  read  it ;  and  seeing 
the  word  consent  put  in  about  confirmation  and  sacrament,  though 
not  as  to  jurisdiction,  and  seeing  the  pastoral  persuasive  power  of 
governing  left  to  all  the  ministers  with  the  rural  dean,  and  some 
more  amendments,  I  wondered  how  it  came  to  pass,  but  was  ex- 
ceeding glad  of  it ;  as  perceiving  that  now  the  terms  were,  though 
not  such  as  we  desired,  such  as  aijy  sober,  honest  minister  might 
submit  to.  I  presently  resolved  to  do  my  best  to  persuade  all,  ac- 
cording to  my  interest  and  opportunity,  to  conform  according  to  the 
terms  of  this  declaration,  and  cheerfully  to  promote  the  concord 
of  the  church,  and  brotherly  love,  which  this  concord  doth  be- 
speak. 

"Having  frequent  business  with  the  lord  chancellor  about  other 
matters,  I  was  going  ;p  him  when  I  met  the  king's  declaration  in  the 
street ;  and  I  was  so  much  pleased  with  it,  that,  having  told  him 
why  I  was  so  earnest  to  have  had  it  suited  to  the  desired  end,  I  gave 
him  hearty  thanks  for  the  additions,  and  told  him  that  if  the  liturgy 
were  but  altered  as  the  declaration  promised,  and  this  settled  and 
continued  to  us  by  a  law,  and  not  reversed,  I  should  take  it  to  be 
my  duty  to  do  my  best  to  procure  the  full  consent  of  others,  and 
promote  our  happy  concord  on  these  temis ;  and  should  rejoice  to 
see  the  day  when  factions  and  parties  may  all  be  swallowed  up  in 
unity,  and  contentions  turned  to  brotherly  love.  At  that  time  he 
began  to  offer  me  a  bishopric,  of  which  more  anon."* 

This  rejoicing  in  the  king's  declaration  was  altogether  premature. 
The  whole  of  this  movement  was  designed  only  to  gain  time,  to 
keep  the  Presbyterians  quiet  with  vain  hopes,  and  to  divide  the 
more  moderate  from  the  more  zealous.  This  was  the  policy  of 
the  court  party,  while  their  single  intention  was  not  only  to  bring 
€very  thing  back  to  the  old  footing,  but  to  make  the  yoke  of  uni- 
formity heavier  than  before.  A  part  of  the  same  policy  was,  to 
bring  over,  or  at  least  to  silence,  some  of  the  leaders  whom  they 
feared,  by  giving  them  preferments  in  the  church.  Of  the  negotia- 
tion on  tins  subject  Baxter  gives  the  following  account. 

"  A  little  before  the  meeting  about  the  king's  declaration,  Colo- 
nel Birch  came  to  me,  as  from  the  lord  chancellor,  to  persuade 
me  to  take  the  bishopric  of  Hereford,  for  he  had  bought  the  bishop's 


Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  276,  279. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  151 

house  at  Whitburne,  and  thought  to  make  a  better  bargain  with  me 
than  with  another,  and,  therefore,  finding  that  the  lord  chancellor 
intended  me  the  offer  of  one,  he  desired  it  might  be  that.  I 
thought  it  best  to  give  them  no  positive  denial  till  I  saw  the  utmost 
of  their  intents:  and  I  perceived  that  Colonel  Birch  came  privately, 
that  a  bishopric  might  not  be  publicly  refused,  and  to  try  whether 
I  would  accept  it,  that  else  it  might  not  be  offered  me;  for  he  told 
me  that  they  would  not  bear  such  a  repulse.  I  told  him  that  I  was 
resolved  never  to  be  bishop  of  Hereford,  and  that  I  did  not  think  I 
should  ever  see  cause  to  take  any  bishopric ;  but  I  could  give  no 
positive  answer  till  I  saw  the  king's  resolutions  about  the  way  of 
church  government ;  for  if  the  old  diocesan  frame  continued,  he 
knew  we  could  never  accept  or  own  it.  After  this,  not  having  a 
flat  denial,  he  came  again  and  again  to  Dr.  Reynolds,  Mr.  Calamy, 
and  myself  together,  to  importune  us  all  to  accept  the  offer,  for  the 
bishopric  of  Norwich  was  offered  to  Dr.  Reynolds,  and  Coventry 
and  Litchfield  to  Mr.  Calamy  ;  but  he  had  no  positive  answer,  but 
the  same  from  me  as  before.  At  last,  the  day  that  the  king's  dec- 
laration came  out,  when  I  was  with  the  lord  chancellor,  who  did  all, 
he  asked  me  whether  I  would  accept  of  a  bishopric.  I  told  him 
that  if  he  had  asked  me  that  question  the  day  before,  I  could  easily 
have  answered  him  that  in  conscience  I  could  not  do  it ;  for,  though 
I  would  live  peaceably  under  whatever  government  the  king  should 
set  up,  I  could  not  have  a  hand  in  executing  it.  But  having,  as  I 
was  coming  to  him,  seen  the  king's  declaration,  and  seeing  that  by 
it  the  government  is  so  far  altered  as  it  is,  I  took  myself  for  the 
church's  sake  exceedingly  beholden  to  his  lordship  for  those  mode- 
rations ;  and  my  desire  to  promote  the  happiness  of  the  church, 
which  that  moderation  tendeth  to,  did  make  me  resolve  to  take  that 
course  which  tendeth  most  thereto.  Whether  to  take  a  bishopric 
be  the  way,  I  was  in  doubt,  and  desired  some  further  time  for  con- 
sideration. But  if  his  lordship  would  procure  us  the  settlement  of 
the  matter  of  that  declaration,  by  passing  it  into  a  law,  I  promised 
him  to  take  that  way  in  which  I  might  most  serve  the  public  peace. 

"  Dr.  Reynolds,  Mr.  Calamy,  and  myself,  had  some  speeches 
oft  together  about  it ;  and  we  all  thought  that  a  bishopric  might  be 
accepted  according  to  the  description  of  the  declaration,  without  any 
violation  of  the  covenant,  or  owning  the  ancient  prelacy  ;  but  all  the 
doubt  was  whether  this  declaration  would  be  made  a  law,  as  was 
then  expected,  or  whether  it  were  but  a  temporary  means  to  draw 
us  on  till  we  came  up  to  all  the  diocesans  desired.  Mr.  Calamy 
desired  that  we  might  all  go  together,  and  all  refuse  or  all  accept  it. 

"But  by  this  time  the  rumor  of  it  fled  abroad,  and  the  voice  of 
the  city  made  a  difference.     For  though  they  wished  that  none  of 


^^^        .*tA.  ^^^^    ^^    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

US  should  be  bishops,  yet  they  said  Dr.  Reynolds  and  Mr,  Baxter, 
being  known  to  be  for  moderate  Episcopacy,  their  acceptance  would 
be  less  scandalous ;  but  if  Mr.  Calamy  should  accept  it,  who  had 
preached,  and  written,  and  done  so  much  against  it,  (which  were 
then  at  large  recited,)  never  Presbyterian  would  be  trusted  for  his 
sake.  So  that  the  clamor  was  very  loud  against  his  acceptance 
of  it ;  and  Mr.  Matthew  NewcOmen,  his  brother-in-law,  and  many 
more,  wrote  to  me  earnestly  to  dissuade  him. 

"  For  my  own  part,  I  resolved  against  it  at  the  first,  but  not  as  a 
thing  which  I  judged  unlawful  in  itself,  as  described  in  the  king's 
declaration ;  but,  1 .  I  knew  that  it  would  take  me  off  my  writing. 
2.  I  looked  to  have  most  of  the  godly  ministers  cast  out ;  and  what 
good  could  be  done  by  ignorant,  vile,  incapable  men  ?  3.  I  feared 
this  declaration  was  but  for  a  present  use,  and  that  shortly  it  would 
be  revoked  or  nullified.  4.  And  if  so,  I  doubted  not  but  the  laws 
would  prescribe  such  work  for  bishops,  in  silencing  ministers,  and 
troubling  honest  Christians  for  their  consciences,  and  ruling  the 
vicious  with  greater  lenity,  as  that  I  had  rather  have  the  nieanest 
employment  among  men.  5.  My  judgment  was  also  fully  resolved 
against  the  lawfulness  of  the  old  diocesan  frame. 

"  But  when  Dr.  Reynolds  and  Mr.  Calamy  asked  my  thoughts, 
I  told  them  that,  distinguishing  between  what  is  simply  and  what  is 
by  accident  evil,  I  thought  that,  as  Episcopacy  is  described  in  the 
king's  declaration,  it  is  lawful,  when  better  cannot  be  had;  but  yet 
scandal  might  make  it  unfit  for  some  men  more  than  others.  To 
Mr.  Calamy,  therefore,  I  would  give  no  counsel,  but  for  Dr.  Rey- 
nolds, I  persuaded  him  to  accept  it,  so  be  it  he  would  publicly  de- 
clare that  he  took  it  on  the  terms  of  the  king's  declaration,  and 
would  lay  it  down  when  he  could  no  longer  exercise  it  on  those 
terms.  Only  I  left  it  to  his  consideration  whether  it  would  be 
belter  to  stay  till  he  saw  what  they  would  do  with  the  declaration ; 
and  for  myself,  I  was  confident  I  should  see  cause  to  refuse  it. 

"  When  I  came  to  the  lord  chancellor,  the  next  day  save  one,  he 
asked  me  of  my  resolution,  and  put  me  to  it  so  suddenly,  that  I 
was  forced  to  delay  no  longer,  but  told  him  that  I  could  not  accept 
it  for  several  reasons.  And  it  was  not  the  least  that  I  thought  I 
could  better  serve  the  church  without  it,  if  he  would  but  prosecute 
the  establishment  of  the  terms  granted.  And  because  I  thought  it 
would  be  ill  taken  if  I  refused  it  upon  any  but  acceptable  reasons, 
and  also  that  writing  would  serve  best  against  misreports  hereafter, 
I  the  next  day  put  a  letter  into  the  lord  chancellor's  hand,  which 
he  took  in  good  part ;  in  which  I  concealed  most  of  my  reasons, 
•"^  but  gave  the  best,  and  used  more  freedom  in  my  further  requests 
than  I  expected  sliould  have  any  good  success." 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  153 

The  letter  here  referred  to  is  inserted  by  Baxter  in  his  Narrative, 
and  is  too  characteristic  to  be  omitted,  even  in  this  more  compen- 
dious biography. 

"My  Lord, 

"  Your  great  favor  and  condescension  encourages  me  to 
give  you  more  of  my  sense  of  the  business  which  your  lordship 
was  pleased  to  propound.  I  was,  till  I  saw  the  declaration,  much 
dejected,  and  resolved  against  a  bishopric  as  unlawful.  But  find- 
ing there  more  than,  on  Oct.  22,  his  majesty  granted  us, — in  the 
pastor's  consent,  etc., — the  rural  dean  with  the  whole  ministry  en- 
abled to  exercise  as  much  persuasive  pastoral  power  as  I,  who  be- 
lieve that  the  church  hath  no  other  kind  of  power,  could  desire, — 
subscription  abated  in  the  universities,  etc.; — and  finding  such 
happy  concessions  in  the  great  point  of  parochial  power  and  dis- 
cipline, and  in  the  liturgy,  and  ceremonies,  my  soul  rejoiced  in 
thankfulness  to  God  and  his  instruments ;  and  my  conscience  pres- 
ently told  me,  it  was  my  duty  to  do  my  best,  with  myself  and 
others,  as  far  as  I  had  interest  and  opportunity,  to  suppress  all  sinful 
discontents ;  and  having  competent  materials  put  into  my  hands, 
(without  which  I  could  have  done  nothing,)  to  persuade  all  my 
brethren  to  thankfulness  and  an  obedient  submission  to  the  govern- 
ment. And  being  raised  to  some  joyful  hopes  of  seeing  the  begin- 
nings of  a  happy  union,  I  shall  crave  your  lordship's  pardon  for 
presuming  to  tell  you  what  farther  endeavors  will  be  necessary  to 
accomplish  it. 

"1.  If  your  lordship  will  endeavor  to  get  this  declaration  passed 
into  an  act : 

"  2.  If  you  will  speedily  procure  a  commission  to  the  persons 
that  are  (equally)  to  be  deputed  to  that  work,  to  review  the  com- 
mon-prayer book,  according  to  the  declaration  : 

"  3.  If  you  will  further  effectually  the  restoration  of  able,  faith- 
ful ministers,  who  are  lately  removed,  (who  have,  and  will  have, 
great  interest  in  the  sober  part  of  the  people,)  to  a  settled  station 
of  service  in  the  church  : 

"  4.  If  you  will  open  some  way  for  the  ejection  of  the  insuffi- 
cient, scandalous,  and  unable : 

"  5.  If  you  will  put  as  many  of  our  persuasion  as  you  can  into 
bishoprics — if  it  may  be,  more  than  three: 

"  6.  If  you  will  desire  the  bishops  to  place  some  of  them  in  in- 
ferior places  of  trust,  especially  rural  deaneries,  which  is  a  station 
suitable  to  us,  in  that  it  hath  no  salary  or  maintenance,  nor  coer- 
cive power,  but  that  simple,  pastoral,  persuasive  power  which  we 
desire. 

"  This  much  will  set  us  all  in  joint 
VOL.  I.  20 


154  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  ^ 

"  And  for  my  own  part,  I  hope,  by  letters  this  very  week,  to 
disperse  the  seeds  of  satisfaction  into  many  counties  of  England. 
But  my  conscience  commanding  me  to  make  this  my  very  work 
and  business,  (unless  the  things  granted  should  be  reversed,  which 
God  forbid,)  I  must  profess  to  your  lordship,  that  I  am  utterly 
against  accepting  of  a  bishopric,  as  because  1  am  conscious  that  it 
will  overmatch  my  sufficiency,  and  affright  me  with  the  remem- 
brance of  my  account  for  so  great  an  undertaking,  so  specially 
because  it  will  very  much  disable  me  from  an  effectual  promoting 
of  the  church's  peace.  As  men  will  question  all  my  argumenta- 
tions and  persuasives,  when  they  see  me  in  the  dignity  which  I 
plead  for,  but  will  take  me  to  speak  my  conscience  impartially 
when  I  am  but  as  one  of  them  ;  so  I  must  profess  to  your  lordship, 
that  it  will  stop  my  own  mouth,  so  that  I  cannot  for  shame  speak 
half  so  freely  as  now  I  can,  (and  will,  if  God  enable  me,)  for 
obedience  and  peace,  while  I  know  that  the  hearers  will  be  think- 
ing I  am  pleading  for  myself.     Therefore  I  humbly  crave, 

1.  That  your  lordship  will  put  some  able  man,  of  our  persuasion, 
into  the  place  which  you  intend  me  ;  though  I  now  think  that 
Dr.  Reynolds  and  Mr,  Calamy  may  better  accept  of  a  bishopric 
than  I,  which  I  hope  your  lordship  will  promote.  I  shall  presume- 
to  offer  some  choice  to  your  consideration."  [Here  follow  the 
names  of  seventeen  divines  of  the  Presbyterian  party.] 

"  2.  That  you  will  believe  that  I  as  thankfully  acknowledge 
your  lordship's  favor,  as  if  I  were  by  it  possessed  of  a  bishopric. 
And  if  your  lordship  continue  in  those  intentions,  I  shall  thankfully 
accept  it  in  any  other  state  or  relation,  that  may  further  my  service 
to  the  church  and  to  his  majesty.  But  i  desire,  for  the  foremen- 
tioned  reasons,  that  it  may  be  no  cathedral  relation.  And  whereas 
the  vicar  of  the  parish  where  I  have  lived,  will  not  resign,  but  acr 
cept  me  only  as  his  curate,  if  your  lordship  would  procure  hirn 
some  prebendary,  or  other  place  of  competent  pro6t,  (for  I  dare 
not  motion  him  to  any  pastoral  charge,  or  place  that  requireth 
preaching,)  that  so  he  might  resign  that  vicarage  to  me  without  his 
loss,  according  to  the  late  act,  before  December ;  for  the  sake  of 
that  town  of  Kidderminster,  I  would  take  it  as  a  very  great  favor. 
But  if  there  be  any  great  inconvenience  or  difficulties  in  the  way, 
I  can  well  be  content  to  be  his  curate.  I  crave  your  lordship's 
pardon  of  this  trouble,  which  your  own  condescension  hath  drawn 
upon  you,  and  remain, 

"  Your  lordship's  much  obliged  servant, 

''Nov.  1,  1660.  Rich.  Baxter." 

"  Mr.  Calamy  blamed  me  for  giving  in  my  denial  alone,  before 
we  had  resolved  together  what  to  do.     But  I  told  him  the  truth, 

~  r,  ■ 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  155 

that,  being  upon  other  necessary  business  with  the  lord  chancellor, 
he  put  me  to  it  on  the  sudden,  so  that  I  could  not  conveniently 
delay  my  answer. 

"Dr.  Reynolds  almost  as  suddenly  accepted,  saying,  that  some 
friend  had  taken  out  the  conge  d'elire  for  him  without  his  knowledge. 
But  he  read  to  me  a  profession  directed  to  the  king,  which  he  had 
written,  where  he  professed  that  he  took  a  bishop  and  a  presbyter 
to  differ  not  ordine  but  gradu;  that  a  bishop  was  but  the  chief 
presbyter,  and  that  he  was  not  to  ordain  or  govern  but  with  his 
presbyters'  assistance  and  consent ;  that  he  accepted  of  the  place 
as  described  in  the  king's  declaration,  and  not  as  it  stood  before  in 
England ;  and  that  he  would  no  longer  hold  or  exercise  it  than  he 
could  do  it  on  these  terms.  To  this  sense  it  was,  and  he  told  me 
that  he  would  offer  it  to  the  king  when  he  accepted  of  the  place ; 
but  whether  he  did  or  not,  I  cannot  tell.  He  died  in  the  bishopric 
of  Norwich,  an.  1676." 

"  Mr.  Calamy  long  suspended  his  answer,  so  that  that  bishopric 
was  long  undisposed  of;  till  he  saw  the  issue  of  all  of  our  treaty, 
which  easily  resolved  him.  Dr.  Manton  was  offered  the  deanery 
of  Rochester,  and  Dr.  Bates  the  deanery  of  Coventry  and  Litch- 
field, which  they  both  after  some  time  refused.  And,  as  I  heard, 
Mr.  Edward  Bowles  was  offered  the  deanery  of  York,  at  least, 
which  he  refused."* 

The  king's  declaration,  of  which  some  account  has  already  been 
given,  contained  the  following  expression  of  his  intentions  con- 
cerning the  book  of  common  prayer.  "  Though  we  do  esteem  the 
liturgy  of  the  church  of  England,  contained  in  the  book  of  common 
prayer,  and  by  law  established,  to  be  the  best  we  have  seen,  and 
we  believe  we  have  seen  all  that  are  extant  and  used  in  this  part 
of  the  world,  and  well  know  what  reverence  most  of  the  reformed 
churches,  or  at  least  the  most  learned  men  in  those  churches,  have 
for  it ;  yet,  since  we  find  some  exceptions  made  to  many  obsolete 
words,  and  other  expressions  used  therein,  which,  upon  the  reforma- 
tion and  improvement  of  the  English  language,  may  well  be  altered, 
we  will  appoint  some  learned  divines,  of  different  persuasions,  to 
review  the  same,  and  to  make  such  alterations  as  shall  be  thought 
most  necessary,  and  some  such  additional  prayers  as  shall  be 
thought  fit  for  emergent  occasions,  and  the  improvement  of  devo- 
tion, the  using  of  which  may  be  left  to  the  discretion  of  the  min- 
isters." This  royal  promise  was  yet  to  be  fulfilled ;  and  on  the 
fulfillment  of  this  depended  the  value  and  efficacy  of  all  the  pre- 
vious negotiations.  "Therefore,"  says  Baxter,  "being  often  with 
the  lord  chancellor,  I  humbly  entreated  him  to  hasten  the  finishing 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  281,  2S4. 


156  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

of  thai  work,  that  we  might  rejoice  in  our  desired  concord.  At 
last  Dr.  Reynolds  and  Mr.  Calamy  were  authorized  to  name  the 
persons  on  that  side  to  manage  the  treaty ;  and  a  commission  was 
granted  under  the  broad  seal  to  the  persons  nominated  on  both 
sides.  I  entreated  Mr.  Calamy  and  Dr.  Reynolds  to  leave  me 
out;  for,  though  1  much  desired  the  expedition  of  the  work,  1  found 
that  the  last  debates  had  made  me  unacceptable  with  my  supe- 
riors, and  this  would  much  more  increase  it,  and  other  men  might 
be  fitter  who  were  much  less  distasted.  But  I  could  not  prevail 
with  them  to  excuse  me."  Twelve  bishops  were  appointed  on 
one  side  ;  and  as  many  of  the  leadingPresbyterian  ministers  on  the 
other,  including  Reynolds,  Calamy,  and  Baxter;  with  nine  assist- 
ants on  each  side,  among  w-hom,  on  the  Presbyterian  side,  were 
men  of  no  less  note  than  William  Bates  and  John  Lightfoot. 

"  A  meeting  was  appointed,"  says  Baxter,  in  his  account  of 
this  affair,  "and  the  Savoy,  the  bishop  of  London's  lodgings, 
named  by  them  for  the  place."  "  The  commission  being  read,  the 
archbishop  of  York,  a  peaceable  man,  spake  first,  and  told  us  that 
he  knew  nothing  of  the  business,  but  perhaps  the  bishop  of  Lon- 
don knew  more  of  the  king's  mind  in  it,  and  therefore  was  fitter  to 
speak  in  it  than  he.  The  bishop  of  London  told  us,  that  it  was 
not  they,  but  we,  that  had  seen  the  seekers  of  this  conference,  and 
that  desired  alterations  in  the  liturgy;  and  therefore  they  had 
nothing  to  say  or  do,  till  we  brought  in  all  that  we  had  to  say 
against  it  in  writing,  and  all  the  additional  forms  and  alterations 
which  we  desired.  Our  brethren  were  very  much  against  this 
motion,  and  urged  the  king's  commission,  which  required  us  to 
meet  together,  advise,  and  consult.  They  told  him  that  by  con- 
ference we  might  perceive,  as  we  went,  what  each  would  yield 
to,  and  might  more  speedily  dispatch,  and  probably  attain,  our 
end ;  whereas,  writing  would  be  a  tedious,  endless  businesSj  and 
we  should  not  have  that  familiarity  and  acquaintance  with  each 
other's  minds,  which  might  facilitate  our  concord."  But  the  bishop 
of  London  resolutely  insisted  on  it  not  to  do  any  thing  till  we 
brought  in  all  our  exceptions,  alterations,  and  additions,  at  once.  In 
this  I  confess,  above  all  things  else,  I  was  wholly  of  his  mind,  and 
prevailed  with  my  brethren  to  consent ;  but,  I  conjecture,  upon 
contrary  reasons.  For,  I  suppose,  he  thought  that  we  should  either 
be  altogether  by  the  ears,  and  be  of  several  minds  among  ourselves, 
at  least  in  our  new  forms ;  or  that  when  our  proposals  and  forms 
came  to  be  scanned  by  them,  they  should  find  as  much  matter  of 
exception  against  ours  as  we  did  against  theirs ;  or  that  the  people 
of  our  persuasion  would  be  dissatisfied  or  divided  about  it.  And 
indeed  our  brethren  themselves  thought  either  all,  or  much  of  this, 
would  come  to  pass,  and  our  disadvantage  would  be  exceeding 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  157 

great.  But  I  told  them  the  reasons  of  my  opinion:  1.  That  we 
should  quickly  agree  on  our  exceptions,  or  offer  none  but  what  we 
were  agreed  on.  2.  That  we  were  engaged  to  offer  them  new 
forms,  which  was  the  expedient  that,  from  the  beginning,  I  had 
aimed  at  and  brought  in,  as  the  only  way  of  accommodation,  consid- 
ering that  they  should  be  in  scripture  words,  and  that  ministers 
should  choose  which  forms  they  would.  3.  That  verbal  disputes 
would  be  managed  with  much  more  contention.  4.  But  above 
all,  that  our  cause  would  never  else  be  well  understood  by  our 
people,  or  foreigners,  or  posterity ;  but  cur  conference  and  cause 
would  be  misreportsd,  and  published,  as  the  conference  at  Hamp- 
ton Court  was,  to  our  prejudice,  and  none  durst  contradict  it :  And 
that  what  we  said  for  our  cause  would  in  this  way  come  fully  and 
truly  to  the  knowledge  of  England,  and  of  other  nations ;  and  that 
if  we  refused  this  opportunity  of  leaving  upon  record  our  testimony 
against  corruptions,  for  a  just  and  moderate  reformation,  we  were 
never  like  to  have  the  like  again.  And  upon  these  reasons,  I  told 
the  bishops  that  we  accepted  of  the  task  which  they  imposed  on  us  ; 
yet  so  as  to  bring  all  our  exceptions  at  one  time,  and  all  our  addi- 
tions at  another  time,  which  they  granted."* 

This  plan  having  been  determined  on,  the  Presbyterian  breth- 
ren immediately  proceeded  to  their  work.  The  task  of  drawing 
up  additional  and  amended  forms  of  prayer  they  imposed  upon 
Baxter ;  but  the  preparation  of  exceptions  against  the  liturgy  then 
in  use,  they  undertook  in  common,  and  for  that  work  they  agreed 
to  meet  day  by  day  till  it  should  be  finished.  In  making  this  ar- 
rangement for  the  division  of  their  labor,  they  were  probably  influ- 
enced by  the  expectation  that  Baxter  would  do  his  part  better 
without  any  coadjutor,  and  that  they  would  proceed  more  peaceably 
and  more  rapidly  without  the  assistance  of  his  peculiarly  keen  and 
disputatious  mind.  "  Hereupon,"  he  says,  "  I  departed  from  them, 
and  came  no  more  till  I  had  finished  my  task,  which  was  a  fort- 
night's iime.  My  leisure  was  too  short  for  the  doing  of  it  with  that 
accurateness  which  a  business  of  that  nature  doth  require,  or  for 
the  consulting  with  men  or  authors.  I  could  not  have  time  to  make 
use  of  any  book  save  the  Bible  and  my  Concordance,  comparing 
all  with  the  Assembly's  Directory,  and  the  book  of  common  prayer, 
and  Hammond  L'Estrange.  At  the  fortnight's  end  I  brought  it  to 
the  other  conmiissioners." 

The  work  which  was  prepared  in  that  fortnight  was  afterwards 
published.  It  is  an  entire  liturgy,  drawn  up,  not  with  the  design 
that  it  might  be  published  by  law  in  the  place  of  the  old  book  of 
prayer,  but  only  with  the  desire  that  the  ministers  of  the  church 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  30.5,  '.JOG. 


158  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

might  be  at  liberty  to  use  this  if  they  pleased,  instead  of  the  other. 
In  reading  these  devout,  scriptural  and  impressive  forms,  I  cannot 
but  acknowledge  that  I  have  felt  with  how  much  more  effect  the 
cause  of  prescribed  forms  of  public  devotion  might  have  been  argued 
at  this  day,  had  the  "  Reformed  Liturgy  "  then  been  allowed  in  the 
established  church  of  England. 

When  Baxter,  having  done  his  part  of  the  work,  came  back  to 
his  brethren,  he  found  them  only  beginning  their  exceptions.  At 
his  suggestion,  they  agreed  to  present  to  the  bishops,  with  their 
other  papers,  a  petition  for  peace,  beseeching  them  to  make  every 
concession  which  they  could  without  doing  violence  to  their  own 
consciences,  for  the  sake  of  promoting  the  peace  of  the  church  and 
the  conversion  and  salvation  of  souls.  The  result,  however,  was, 
as  the  Presbyterians  had  feared,  and  as  the  bishops  had  predeter- 
mined. Not  the  least  point  or  particle  was  yielded  by  the  domi- 
nant party  for  the  sake  of  accommodation.  ■ 

The  time  within  w^iich  the  commission  was  limited,  was  nearly 
exhausted  in  this  sort  of  controversy,  when,  about  ten  days  before 
the  expiration  of  their  commission,  the  bishops  still  insisting  that 
there  should  be  no  alteration  of  the  liturgy  but  in  those  points  in 
which  it  should  be  proved  by  regular  scholastic  disputation  to  be 
unlawful,  the  Presbyterians  reluctantly  yielded  to  their  demand  for 
such  a  disputation.  "  We  were  left,"  says  Baxter,  "  in  a  very 
great  strait.  If  we  should  enter  upon  dispute  whh  them,  we  gave 
up  the  end  and  hope  of  our  endeavors.  If  we  refused  it,  we  knew 
that  they  would  boast  that,  when  it  came  to  the  setting  to,  we 
would  not  so  much  as  attempt  to  prove  any  thing  unlawful  in  the 
liturgy,  nor  durst  dispute  it  with  them. 

"  Mr.  Calamy,  with  some  others  of  our  brethren,  would  have 
had  us  refiise  the  motion  of  disputing,  as  not  tending  to  fulfill  the 
king's  commands.  We  told  the  bishops,  over  and  over,  that  they 
could  not  choose  but  know  that,  before  we  could  end  one  argument 
in  a  dispute,  our  time  would  be  expired  ;  and  that  it  could  not  pos- 
sibly tend  to  any  accommodation ;  and  that  to  keep  off  from  per- 
sonal conference,  till  within  a  few  days  of  the  expiration  of  the 
commission,  and  then  resolve  to  do  nothing  but  wrangle  out  the 
time  in  a  dispute,  as  if  we  were  between  jest  and  earnest  in  the 
schools,  was  too  visibly,  in  the  sight  of  all  the  world,  to  defeat  the 
king's  commission,  and  the  expectation  of  many  thousands,  who 
longed  for  our  unity  and  peace.  But  we  spoke  to  the  deaf;  they 
had  other  ends,  and  were  other  men,  and  had  the  art  to  suit  the 
means  unto  their  ends.  For  my  part,  when  I  saw  that  they  would 
tlo  nothing  else,  I  persuaded  our  brethren  to  yield  to  a  disputation 
with  them,  and  let  them  understand  that  we  were  far  from  fearing 
it,  seeing  they  would  give  us  no  hopes  of  concord ;  but,  withal, 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  159 

first  to  profess  to  them,  that  the  guilt  of  disappointing  his  majesty 
and  the  kingdom,  lay  not  upon  us,  who  desired  to  obey  the  king's 
commission,  but  on  them.  And  so  we  yielded  to  spend  the  little 
time  remaining,  in  disputing  with  them,  rather  than  go  home  and 
do  nothing,  and  leave  them  to  tell  the  court  that  we  durst  not  dis- 
pute with  them  when  they  so  provoked  us,  nor  were  able  to  prove 
our  accusations  of  the  liturgy."* 

The  dispute  thus  undertaken  was  managed  by  three  on  each 
side,  chosen  for  the  purpose.  Baxter  took  the  lead  on  one  side, 
and  Dr.  Gunning  on  the  other.  Bishop  Burnet's  account  of  the 
debate  is,  that  these  two  disputants  "  spent  several  days  in  logical 
arguing,  to  the  diversiori  of  the  town,  who  looked  upon  them  as  a 
couple  of  fencers  engaged  in  a  dispute  that  could  not  be  brought  to 
any  end.  The  bishops  insisted  on  the  laws  being  still  in  force,  to 
which  they  would  admit  of  no  exception  unless  it  was  proved  that 
the  matter  of  them  was  sinful.  They  charged  the  Presbyterians 
with  making  a  schism  for  that  which  they  could  not  prove  to  be 
sinful.  They  said  there  was  no  reason  to  gratify  such  men ;  that 
one  demand  granted  would  draw  on  many  more  ;  that  all  authority 
in  church  and  state  was  struck  at  by  the  position  they  had  insisted 
on,  namely.  That  it  was  not  lawful  to  impose  things  indifferent ; 
since  these  seemed  to  be  the  only  matters  in  which  authority  could 
interfere." 

Thus  ended  the  Savoy  conference,  the  commission  by  which  it 
was  held  expiring  July  25,  1661.  At  the  end,  it  was  agreed  to 
report  to  the  king,  as  the  result  of  their  confei'ence,  "  That  we  were 
all  agreed  on  the  ends  for  the  churches'  welfare,  unity,  and  peace, 
and  his  majesty's  happiness  and  contentment,  but  after  all  our  de- 
bates were  disagreed  of  the  means." 

"  When  this  work  was  over,"  says  Baxter,  "  the  rest  of  our 
brethren  met  again,  and  resolved  to  draw  up  an  account  of  our  en- 
deavors, and  present  it  to  his  majesty,  with  our  petition  for  his 
promised  help  yet  for  those  alterations  and  abatements  which  we 
could  not  procure  of  the  bishops.  They  also  resolved  that,  first, 
we  should  acquaint  the  lord  chancellor  with  it,  and  consult  with  him 
about  it.  Which  we  did ;  and  as  soon  as  we  came  to  him,  accord- 
ing to  my  expectation,  I  found  him  most  offended  at  me,  and  that 
I  had  taken  off  the  distaste  and  blame  from  all  the  rest.  At  our 
first  entrance,  he  merrily  told  us  that  if  I  were  but  as  fat  as  Dr. 
Manton,  we  should  all  do  well.  I  told  him,  if  his  lordship  could 
teach  me  the  art  of  growing  fat,  he  should  find  me  not  unwilling  to 
learn  by  any  good  means.  He  grew  more  serious,  and  said  that  I 
was  severe  and  strict  like  a  melancholy  man,  and  made  those  things 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  p.  :?36. 


160  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.         '" 

sin  which  others  did  not :  and  I  perceived  he  had  been  possessed 
with  displeasure  towards  me  upon  that  account,  that  I  charged  the 
church  and  hturgy  with  sin,  and  had  not  supposed  that  the  worst 
was  but  inexpediency.  I  told  him  that  1  had  spoken  nothing  but 
what  I  thought,  and  had  given  my  reasons  for.  After  other  such 
discourse,  we  craved  his  favor  to  procure  the  king's  declaration  yet 
to  be  passed  into  an  act,  and  his  advice  what  we  had  further  to  do. 
He  consented  that  we  should  draw  up  an  address  to  his  majesty, 
rendering  him  an  account  of  all ;  but  desired  that  we  would  first 
show  it  him,  which  we  promised. 

"  When  we  had  showed  our  paper  to  the  lord  chancellor,  (which 
the  brethren  had  desired  me  to  draw  up,  and  had  consented  to 
without  any  alteration,)  he  was  not  pleased  with  some  passages  in 
it,  which  he  thought  too  pungent  or  pressing ;  but  would  not  bid  us 
put  them  out.  So  we  went  with  it  to  the  lord  chamberlain,  (the 
earl  of  Manchester,)  and  I  read  it  to  him  also ;  and  he  was  earnest 
with  us  to  blot  out  some  passages  as  too  vehement,  and  such  as 
would  not  well  be  borne.  I  was  very  loth  to  leave  them  out,  but 
Sir  Gilbert  Gerard,  an  ancient  godly  man,  being  with  him,  and  of 
the  same  mind,  I  yielded."  "  But  when  we  came  to  present  it  to 
his  majesty,  the  earl  of  Manchester  secretly  told  the  rest,  that  if 
Dr.  Reynolds,  Dr.  Bates,  and  Dr.  Manton,  vv'ould  deliver  it,  it 
would  be  the  more  acceptable,  intimating  that  I  was  grown  unac- 
ceptable at  court.  But  they  would  not  go  without  me,  and  he 
professed  he  desired  not  my  exclusion.  When  they  told  me  of  it,  I 
took  my  leave  of  him,  and  was  going  away ;  but  he  and  they  came 
after  me  to  the  stairs,  and  importuned  me  to  return,  and  I  went  with 
them  to  take  my  farewell  of  this  service."  "  So  we  desired  Dr. 
Manton  to  deliver  our  petition,  and  with  it  the  fair  copies  of  all  our 
papers  to  the  bishops,  which  were  required  of  us  for  the  king.  And 
when  Bishop  Reynolds  had  spoken  a  few  words.  Dr.  Manton  de- 
livered them  to  the  king,  who  received  them  and  the  petition,  but 
did  not  bid  us  read  it  at  all.  At  last,  in  his  speeches,  something 
fell  out  which  Dr.  Manton  told  him  that  the  petition  gave  a  full 
account  of,  if  his  majesty  pleased  to  give  him  leave  to  read  it ; 
whereupon  he  had  leave  to  read  it  out."  "  And  this  was  the  end 
of  these  affairs."* 

While  this  vexatious  and  fmitless  negotiation  was  going  on,  Bax- 
ter had  frequent  interviews  with  the  lord  chancellor,  on  business  of 
another  nature,  of  which  some  account  may  be  given  m  his  own 
words. 

"  In  the  time  of  Cromwell's  government,  Mr.  John  Elliot,  with 
some  assistant  in  Nev|jEngland,  having  learned  the  natives'  Ian- 


Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  3G4,  365. 


LIFE    OK    RICHAIID    BAXTER.  161 

guage,  and  converted  many  souls  among  tliein,  it  was  found  that 
the  great  hindrance  of  the  progress  of  that  work,  was  the  poverty 
and  barharousness  of  the  people,-  whicl^  made  many  to  hve  dis- 
persed like  wild  Iteasts  in  wildernesses,  so  that,  having  neither 
towns,  nor  food,  nor  entertainment  fit  for  English  bodies,  few  of  them 
could  be  got  together  to  be  spoken  to,  nor  could  the  English  go  far 
or  stay  long  among  them.  Wherefore  to  build  them  houses,  and 
draw  them  together,  and  maintain  the  preachers  that  went  among 
them,  and  pay  sclioolmasters  to  teach  their  children,  and  keep 
their  children  at  school,  etc.,  Cromwell  caused  a  collection  to  be 
made  in  England  in  every  parish;,  and  people  did  contribute 
very  largely.  And  withjhe  money,  beside  some  left  in  stock, 
was  bought  seven  or  eight  hundred  pounds  per  annum  of  lands  ; 
and  a  corporation  was  chosen  to  dispose  of  the  rents  for  the  further- 
ing of  the  works  among  the  Indians.  This  land  was  almost  all 
bought  for  the  worth  of  it  of  one  Colonel  Beddingfield,  a  Papist, 
an  officer  in  the  king's  army.  When  the  king-came  in,  Bedding- 
field  seizeth  on  the  lands  again,  and  keepeth  them,  and  refuseth 
either  to  surrender  them  or  to  repay  the  njoney  ;  because  all  that 
was  done  in  Cromwell's  time  being  now  judged  void,  as  done  with- 
out law,  that  corporation  was  now  null,  and  so  could  have  no  right 
to  money  or  lands  ;  and  he  pretended  that  he  sold  it  under  the  worth, 
in  expectation  of  the  I'ecovery  of  it  upon  the  king's  retura.  The 
president  of  the  corporation  was  the  Lord  Steele,  a  judge,  a  worthy 
man  ;  the  treasurer  was  Mr.  Henry  Ashurst,  and  the  members  were 
such  sober,  godly  men  as  were  best  affected  to  New  England's 
work.  Mr.  Ashurst,  being  the  most  exemplary  person  for  eminent 
sobriety,  self-denial,  piety,  and  cliarity,  that  London  could  boast 
of,  as  far  as  public  obser\ation,  and  fame,  and  his  most  intimate 
friends'  reports  could  testify,  did  make  this  and  all  other  public  good 
which  he  could  do  his  business.  He  called  the  old  corporation  to- 
gether, and  desired  me  to  meetth.em,  where  we  all  agreed  that  such 
as  had  incurred  the  king's  displeasure  by  being  members  of  any 
courts  of  justice  in  Cromwell's  days,  should  quietly  recede,  and  we 
should  try  if  we  could  get  the  corporation  restored,  and  the  rest 
continued,  and  more  fit  men  added,  that  the  land  might  be  recover- 
ed. And  because,  in  our  other  business,  I  had  ready  access  to  the 
lord  chancellor,  they  desired  me  to  solicit  him  about  it.  So  Mr. 
Ashurst  and  I  did  follow  the  business.  The  lord  chancellor,  at  the 
very  first,  was  ready  to  further  us,  approving  of  the  work,  as 
that  which  could  not  be  for  any  faction  or  evil  end,  but  honorable 
to  the  king  and  land.  He  told  me  that  Beddingfield  could  have 
no  right  to  that  which  he  hud  sold, 'and  that  the  3-ight  was  in  the 
king,  who  would  readily  grant  it  to  the  good  use  intenxied  ;  and  that  we 
should  have  his  best  assistance  to  recover  it.      And  indeed  I  found 

VOL.  I.  21 


1^ 

«  1 

162  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

him  real  to  us  in  this  business  from  first  to  last ;  yet  did  Bedding- 
field,  by  the  friendship  of  the  aaorney-general  and  some  others,  so 
delay  the  business,  as,  bringing  it  to  a  suit  in  chancery,  he  kept 
Mr.  Ashurst  in  a  twelve-month's  trouble  before  he  could  recover 
the  lands  ;  but  when  it  came  to  judgment,  the  lord  chancellor  spake 
very  much  against  him,  and  granted  a  decree  for  the  new  corpora- 
tion. Fori  had  procured  of  him  before,  the  king's  grant  of  a  new 
corporation  ;  and  Mr.  Ashurst  and  myself  had  the  naming  of  the 
members.  We  desired  Mr.  Robert  Boyle,  a  worthy  person  of 
learn  ng  and  a  public  spirit,  and  brother  to  the  earl  of  Cork,  to  be 
president ;  and  I  got  Mr.  Ashurst  to  be  treasurer  again  ;  and  some 
of  the  old  members,  and  many  other  godly  able  citizens,  made  up 
the  rest.  Only  we  left  the  nomination  of  some  lords  to  his  majes- 
ty, as  not  presuming  to  nominate  such ;  and  the  lord  chancellor, 
lord  chamberlain,  and  six  or  seven  more,  w^ere  added.  But  it  was 
Mr.  Boyle  and  Mr.  Ashurst,  with  the  citizens,  that  did  the  work ; 
but  especially  the  care  and  trouble  of  all  was  on  Mr.  Ashurst. 
And  thus  t  at  business  was  happily  restored. 

"  As  a  fruit  of  this  his  majesty's  favor,  Mr.  Elliot  sent  the  king, 
first  the  New  Testament,  and  then  the  whole  Bible,  translated  and 
printed  in  the  Indians'  language ; — such  a  work  and  fniit  of  a  plan- 
tation as  was  never  before  presented  to  a  king.  And  he  sent  word 
that  next  he  would  print  my  '  Call  to  the  Unconverted,'  and  then 
*  The  Practice  of  Piety.'  But  Mr.  Boyle  sent  him  word  that  it 
would  be  better  taken  here,  if '  The  Practice  of  Piety  '  were  print- 
ed before  any  thing  of  mine.  At  the  present,  the  revenue  of  the 
land  goeth  most  to  the  maintaining  of  the  press.  Upon  the  occa- 
sion of  this  work,  I  had  letters  of  thanks  from  the  court  and 
governor  in  New  England,  and  from  Mr.  Norton  and  Mr". 
Elliot."* 

These  letters  are  given  at  length  in  Baxter's  Narrative  ;  but  they 
are  more  important  in  connection  with  the  history  of  New  England 
than  as  a  part  of  his  personal  history.  The  fii-st  is  dated  "  Boston, 
in  New  England,  this  7th  of  August,  1661,"  and  is  signed  "  Jo.  En- 
decott,  Governor ;  with  the  consent  and  by  order  of  the  General 
Court."  It  was  written  on  the  presumption  that  "  one  of-  his  ma- 
jesty's chaplains  in  orc'-^nary,"  who  had  been  instrumental  in  reor- 
ganizing the  corporation  for  the  benefit  of  the  Indians,  must  have 
Some  influence  at  court ;  and  while  it  beautifully  expresses  the 
thanks  of  the  Massachusetts  colony  for  what  he  had  already  done, 
it  solichs  his  continual  good  offices  in  their  behalf.  "  What  ad- 
vantage," say  they,  "  God  hath  put  into  your  hands,  and  reserved 
your  weak  body  unto,  by  access  unto  persons  of  honor  and  trusty 

•  Nniratire,  Part  II.  pp.  2W,  2?!. 


LIFK  or  RICHARD  BAXTER.  163 

or  Otherwise,  we  hope  ^t  will  be  no  grief  of  heart  unto  you,  if  you 
shall  improve  part  thereof  this  way.  All  that  we  desire,  is  liberty 
to  serve  God  accordino;  to  the  Scriptures.  Liberty  unto  error  and 
sin,  or  to  set  up  another  rule  besides  the  Scriptures,  we  neither 
wish  to  be  allowed  to  ourselves,  nor  would  we  allow  it  to  others. 
If  in  any  thini,^  we  should  mistake  the  meaning  of  the  Scriptures," 
"we  are  willing  and  desirous  to  live  and  learn  by  any  orderly 
means  that  God  hath  appointed  for  our  learning  and  instruction ; 
and  glad  shall  we  be  of  the  opportunity  to  learn  in  peace.  The 
liberty  aforesaid  we  have,  by  the  favor  of  God,  now  for  many  years 
enjoyed,  and  the  same  advantaged  and  encouraged  by  the  constitu- 
tion of  our  civil  government,  according  to  concessions  and  privileges 
granted  and  established  to  us  by  the  gracious  letters-patent  of 
King  Charles  the  First;  the  continuance  of  w^hich  privileges  is  our 
earnest  and  just  desire,  for  nothing  that  is  unjust,  or  not  honest, 
both  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  and  also  of  men,  do  we  seek,  or  would 
allow  ourselves  in.  We  hope  we  shall  continue  as  faithful  sub- 
jects to  his  majesty  (according  to  our  duty)  under  an  elective  gov- 
ernment, as  under  an  imposed."  Our  hope  is  in  God,  who  hath 
hitherto  helped  us,  and  who  is  able  to  keep  open  for  us  a  great  and 
effectual  door  of  liberty  to  serve  him,  and  opportunity  to  advance 
his  name  in  this  wilderness,  although  there  be  many  adversaries." 
The  second  of  these  letters  is  from  the  pen  of  the  celebrated 
John  Norton,  of  the  first  church  in  Boston,  and  bears  date  "  Sept. 
23,  166L"  It  was  written  "in  behalf  of  one  Mr.  Wilharn  Leet, 
governor  of  New  Haven  jurisdiction,  whose  case,"  says  the  writer, 
"  is  this.  He  being  conscious  of  indiscretion,  and  some  neglect, 
(not  to  say  how  it  came  about,)  in  relation  to  the  expediting  the 
execution  of  the  warrant,  according  to  his  duty,  sent  from  his 
majesty  for  the  apprehending  of  the  two  colonels,*  is  not  without 
fear  of  some  displeasure  that  may  follow  thereupon ;  and  indeed 
hath  almost  ever  since  been  a  man  depressed  in  his  spirit  for  the 
neglect  wherewith  he  charge th  himself  therein.  His  endeavors 
also  since,  have  been  accordingly,  and  that  in  full  degree ;  as, 
besides  his  own  testimony,  h.is  neighbors  attest  they  see  not  what 
he  co\dd  have  done  more.  ■  Sir,  if  any  report  prejudicial  to  this 
gentleman,  in  this  respect,  eome  unto  your  ear  by  your  prudent 
inquiry  upon  this  intimation,  or  otherwise  ;  so  far  as  the  significa- 
tion of  the  premises  unto  his  majesty,  or  other  eminent  person,  may 
plead  for  him,  or  avert  trouble  towards  him,  I  assure  myself  you 
may  report  it  as  a  real  truth;  and  that,  according  to  your  wisdom, 
you  would  be  helpful  to  him  so  far  therein,  is  both  his  and  my 

*  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  suy  that  thuse  "two  colonels"  are  tiie  regicide 
judges,  Whalley  and  Goffe. 


164  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

desire.  The  gentleman  hath  pursued  both  others  and  myself  with 
letters  to  this  ettect,  and  yet,  not  satisfied  therewith,  came  to  Boston 
to  disburthen  his  heart  to  me  ;"  "  upon  issue  of  which  conference, 
no  better  expedient,  under  God,  presented  itself  to  us  than  this." 

The  letter  from  Elliot,  abovemenlioned,  is  a  valuable  and  beau- 
tifal  memorial  of  the  venerated  apostle  of  the  Indians ;  but  it  Was 
written  at  a  later  date,  and  the  insertion  of  any  extracts  here  would 
too  much  intermpt  our  narrative. 

The  Savoy  conference  was  closed  July  25th,  1661.  The  last 
interview  of  Baxter  and  his  brethren  with  the  king,  when  they 
presented  their  last  and  hopeless  petition,  must  have  been  soon 
after.  In  bringing  down  to  this  time  the  story  of  these  public 
transactions,  m.any  incidents  of  a  more  private  and  personal  nature 
have  been  omitted.  Some  of  these  v.ill  now  be  recited  in  his  own 
language. 

"  When  I  had  refused  a  bishopric,  I  did  it  on  such  reasons  as 
oftended  not  the  lord  chancellor  ;  and,  therefore,  instead  of  it,  I 
presumed  to  crave  bis  favor  to  restore  me  to  preach  to  my  people 
at  Kidderminster  again,  from  whence  I  had  been  cast  out,  when 
many  hundreds  of  others  were  ejected,  upon  the  restoration  of 
all  them  that  had  been  sequestered.  It  was  but  a  vicarage, 
and  the  vicar  was  a  poor,  unlearned,  ignorant,  silly  reader,  who 
little  understood  what  Christianity,  and  the  articles  of  his  creed, 
did  signify ;  but  once  a  quarter,  he  said  something  which  he  called 
a  sermon,  which  made  him  the  pity  or  laughter  of  the  people. 
This  man,  being  unable  to  preach  himself,  kept  always  a  curate 
under  him  to  preach.  My  people  were  so  dear  to  me,  and  I  to 
them,  that  I  would  have  been  with  them  upon  the  lowest  lawful 
terms.  Some  laughed  at  me  for  refusing  a  bishopric,  and  petitioning 
to  be  a  reading  vicar's  curate ;  but  I  had  little  hopes  of  so  good  a 
condition,  at  least  for  any  considerable  time. 

"The  ruler  of  the  vicar  and  all  the  business  there,  was  Sir 
Ralph  Clare;  an  old  man,  and  an  old  courtier,  who  carried  it 
towards  me,  all  the  time  I  was  there,  with  great  civility  and  respect, 
and  sent  me  a  purse  of  money  when  I  went  away,  but  I  refused  it. 
But  his  zeal  against  all  who  scrupled  -ceremonies,  or  who  would 
not  preach  for  prelacy  and  conformity,  was  so  much  greater  than 
his  respects  to  me,  that  he  was  the  principal  cause  of  my  removal, 
though  he  has  not  owned  it  to  this  day.  I  suppose  he  thought 
that  when  I  was  far  enougli  off,,  he  could  so  far  rule  the  town,  as 
to  reduce  the  people  to  his  way.  But  he  little  knew,  nor  others  of 
that  temper,  how  {inn  conscientious  men  are  to  the  matters  of  their 
everlasting  interest,  and  how  little  men's  authority  can  do  against 
the  authority  of  God,  with  those  that  are  unfeignedly  subject  to 
him.     Openly,  he  seemed  to  be  for  my  return  at  first,  that   he 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  165 

might  not  offend  the  people ;  and  the  lord  chancellor  seemed  very 
forward  in  it,  and  all  tlie  difficulty  was,  how  to  provide  some 
other  place  for  th^  old  vicar,  Mr.  Dance,  that  he  might  be  no 
loser  by  the  change.  And  it  was  so  contrived,  that  all  must 
seem  forward  in  it  except  the  vicar.  The  king  himself  must  be 
engaged  in  it ;  the  lord  chancellor  earnestly  presseth  it;  Sir  Ralph 
Clare  is  willing  and  very  desirous  of  it;  and  the  vicar  is  wiUing,  if 
he  may  but  be  recompensed  with  as  good  a  place.  Either  all  de- 
sire it,  or  none  desire  it.  But  the  hindrance  was,  that,  among  all 
the  livings  and  prebendaries  of  England,  there  was  none  fit  for  the 
poor  vicar.  A  prebend  he  must  not  have,  because  he  was  insuffi- 
cient, and  yet  he  is  still  thought  sufficient  to  be  the  pastor  of  near 
4,000  souls!  The  lord  chancellor,  to  make  the  business  certain, 
will  engage  himself  for  a  valuable  stipend  to  the  vicar,  and  his  own 
steward  must  be  commanded  to  pay  it  him.  What  could  be  de- 
sired more  ?  But  the  poor  vicar  was  to  answer  him  that  this  was 
no  security  to  him ;  his  lordship  might  withhold  that  stipend  at  his 
pleasure,  and  then  where  was  his  maintenance  ?  Give  him  but  a 
legal  title  to  any  thing  of  equal  value,  and  he  would  resign.  And 
the  patron  was  my  sure  and  intimate  friend.  But  no  such  thing 
was  to  be  had,  and  so  Mr.  Dance  must  keep  his  place. 

"  Though  I  requested  not  any  preferment  of  them  but  this,  yet 
even  for  this  I  resolved  L  would  never  be  importunate.  I  only 
nominated  it  as  the  favor  which  I  desired,  when  their  offers  in  gen- 
eral invited  me  to  ask  more ;  and  then  I  told  them,  that,  if  it  were 
in  any  way  inconvenient  to  them,  I  would  not  request  it  of  them. 
And  at  the  very  first  I  desired,  that,  if  they  thought  it  best  for  the 
vicar  to  keep  his  place,  I  was  willing  to  take  the  lecture,  which,  by 
his  bond,  was  secured  to  me,  and  was  still  my  right ;  or  if  that  were 
denied  me,  I  would  be  his  curate  while  the  king's  declaration  stood 
in  force.  But  none  of  these  could  be  accepted  with  men  that 
were  so  exceeding  willing.  In  the  end,  it  appeared  that  two 
knights  of  the  county,  Sir  Ralph  Clare  and  Sir  John  Packington, 
who  were  very  great  with  Dr.  Morley,  newly  made  bishop  of 
Worcester,  had  made  him  believe  that  my  interest  was  so  great, 
and  I  could  do  so  much  with  ministers  and  people  in  that  county, 
that,  unless  I  would  bind  myself  to  promote  their  cause  and  party, 
I  was  not  fit  to  be  there.  And  this  bishop,  being  greatest  of  any 
man  with  the  lord  chancellor,  must  obstruct  my  return  to  my 
ancient  flock.  At  last.  Sir  Ralph  Clare  did  freely  tell  me,  that  if 
I  would  conform  to  the  orders  and  ceremonies  of  the  church,  and 
preach  conformity  to  the  people,  and  labor  to  set  them  right,  there 
was  no  man  in  England  so  fit  to  be. there,  for  no  man  could  more 
effectually  doit;  but  if  I  would  not,  there  was  no  man  so  unfit  for 
the  place,  for  no  man  could  more  hinder  it. 


166  LIFE    OV    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

"  I  desired  it  as  the  greatest  favor  of  them,  that,  if  they  intended 
not  my  being  there,  they  would  plainly  tell  me  so,  that  1  might 
trouble  them  and  myself  no  more  about  it ;  but  tiiat  was  a  favor 
loo  great  to  be  expected.  I  had  continual  encouragement  by 
promises,  till  I  was  almost  tired  in  waiting  on  them.  At  last, 
meeting  Sir  Ralph  Clare  in  the  bishop's  chamber,  I  desired  him, 
before  the  bishop,  to  tell  me  to  my  face,  if  he  had  any  thing  against 
me  which  might  cause  all  this  ado.  He  told  me  that  I  would  give 
the  sacrament  to  none  kneeling,  and  that  of  eighteen  hundred 
■communicants,  there  were  not  past  six  hundred  that  were  for  me, 
and  the  rest  were  rather  for  the  vicar.  I  answered,  I  was  very 
glad  that  these  words  fell  out  to  be  spoken  in  the  bishop's  hearing. 
To  the  first  accusation,  I  told  him,  that  he  himself  knew  I  invited 
him  to  the  sacrament,  and  offered  it  him  kneeling,  and  under  my 
hand  in  writing ;  and  openly  in  his  hearing  in  the  pulpit  I  had 
promised  and  told  both  him  and  all  the  rest,  I  never  had,  nor  ever 
W'Ould,  put  any  man  from -the  sacrament  on  the  account  of  kneel- 
ing, but  leave  every  one  to  the  posture  which  they  should  choose  ; 
^nd  that  the  reason  why  1  never  gave  it  to  any  kneeling,  \vas 
because  all  that  came  would  sit  or  stand,  and  those  that  were  for 
kneeling  only,  followed  him,  who  would  not  come  unless  I  would 
administer  it  to  him  and  his  party  on  a  day  by  themselves,  when 
the  rest  were  not  present ;  and  I  had  no  mind  to  be  the  author  of 
such  a  schism,  and  make,  as  it  were,  two  churches  of  one.  But 
especially  the  consciousness  of  notorious  scandal,  which  they  knew 
they  must  be  accountable  for,  did  make  many  kneelers  stay  away. 
And  all  this  he  could  not  deny. 

"As  to  the  second  charge,  I  stated,  there  was  a  witness  ready  to 
say  as  he  did  ;  for  the  truth  is,  among  good  and  bad,  I  knew  but 
one  man  in  the  town  against  me,  which  was  a  stranger  newly  come, 
one  Ganderton,  an  attorney,  steward  to  the  lord  of  Abergavenny, 
a  Papist,  who  was  lord  of  the  manor,  and  this  one  man  was  the 
prosecutor,  and  witnessed  how  many  were  against  my  return.  I 
craved  of  the  bishop  that  I  might  send  by  the  next  post  to  know 
their  minds,  and  if  that  were  so,  I  would  take  it  for  a  favor  to  be 
kept  from  thence.  Whey  the  people  heard  this  at  Kidderminster, 
in  a  day's  time  they  gathered  the  hands  of  sixteen  hundred  of  the 
eighteen  hundred  communicants,  and  the  rest  were  such  as  were 
from  home.  And  within  four  or  five  days,  I  happened  to  find  Sir 
Ralph  Clare  with  the  bishop  again,  and  showed  him  the  hands  of 
sixteen  hundred  communicants,  with  an  offer  of  more  if  they  might 
have  time,  all  very  earnest  for  my  return.  Sir  Ralph  was  silenced 
as  to  that  point ;  but  he  and  the  bishop  appeared  so  much  the  more 
against  my  return. 

"  The  letter  'vhich  the  lord  chancellorj  upon  bis  o"wn  oifer,  wrote 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  167 

for  me  to  Sir  Ralph  Clare,  he  gave  at  my  request  unsealed  ;  and 
so  I  took  a  copy  of  it  before  I  sent  it  away,  as  thinking  the  chief 
use  would  be  to  keep  it  and  compare  it  with  their  dealings.  It 
was  as  followeth : 

"  '  To    MY    NOBLE    FrIEND    SiR    RaLPH    ClaRE,  THESE. 

'"Sir, 

"  '  I  am  a  little  out  of  countenance,  that,  after  the  discovery 
of  such  a  desire  in  his  majesty,  that  Mr.  Baxter  should  be  settled 
at  Kidderminster,  as  he  was  heretofore,  and  my  promise  to  you,  by 
the  king's  direction,  that  Mr.  Dance  should  very  punctually  receive 
a  recompense  by  way  of  a  rent  upon  his  or  your  bills  charged  here 
upon  my  steward,  Mr.  Baxter  hath  yet  no  fruit  of  this  his  majesty's 
good  intention  towards  him  ;  so  that  he  hath  too  much  reason  to 
beheve  that  he  is  not  so  frankly  dealt  with  in  this  particular  as  be 
deserves  to  be.  1  do  again  tell  you,  that  it  will  be  very  acceptable 
to  the  king  if  you  can  persuade  Mr.  Dance  to  surrender  that  charge 
to  Mr.  Baxter ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  and  till  he  is  preferred  to 
as  profitable  an  employment,  whatever  agreement  you  shall  make 
with  him  for  an  annual  rent,  it  shall  be  paid  quarterly  upon  a  bill 
from  you  charged  upon  my  steward,  Mr.  Clutterbucke  ;  and  for 
the  exact  performance  of  this,  you  may  securely  pawn  your  full 
credit.  I  do  most  earnestly  entreat  you,  that  you  will  with  all 
speed  inform  me  what  we  may  depend  upon  in  this  particular,  that 
we  may  not  keep  Mr.  Baxter  in  suspense,  who  hath  deserved  very 
well  from  his  majesty,  and  of  whom  his  majesty  hath  a  very  good 
opinion  ;  and  I  hope  you  will  not  be  the  less  desirous  to  comply 
with  him  for  the  particular  recommendation  of, 

"  '  Sir,  Your  very  afiectionate  servant 

'"Edw.  Hyde." 

"  Can  any  thing  be  more  serious,  cordial,  and  obliging,  than  alf 
this  ?  For  a  lord  chancellor,  that  hath  the  business  of  the  kingdom 
upon  his  hand,  and  lords  attending  him,  to  take  up  his  time  so 
much  and  often  about  so  low  a  person  and  so  small  a  thing  1  And 
why  should  not  a  man  be  content  without  a  vicarage  or  a  curate- 
ship,  when  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  the  king  and  the  lord  chan- 
cellor to  procure  it  for  him,  though  they  so  vehemently  desire  it  ? 
But,  O !  thought  I,  how  much  better  a  life  do  poor  men  live,  who 
speak  as  they  think,  and  do  as  they  profess,  and  are  never  put 
upon  such  shifts  as  these  for  their  present  conveniences !  Won- 
derful !  thought  I,  that  men  who  do  so  much  overvalue  worldly 
honor  and  esteem,  can  possibly  so  much  forget  futurity,  and  think 
only  of  the  present  day,  as  if  they  regarded  not  how  their  actions 


1G8  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

be  judged  of  by  posterity.  Notwithstanding  all  his  extraordinary 
favor,  since  the  day  the  king  came  in,  I  never  received,  as  his 
chaplain,  or  as  a  preacher,  or  on  any  account,  the  value  of  one 
farthing  of  any  public  maintenance.  So  that  I,  and  many  a 
hundred  more,  had  not  had  a  piece  of  bread  but  for  the  voluntary 
contribution,  whilst  we  preached,  of  another  sort  of  people  :  yea, 
while  I  had  all  this  excess  of  favor,  I  would  have  taken  it  indeed 
for  an  excess,  as  being  far  beyond  my  expectations,  if  they  would 
but  have  given  me  liberty  to  preach  the  gospel,  without  any  main- 
tenance, and  leave  me  to  beg  my  bread." 

"  A  little  after  this.  Sir  Ralph  Clare,  and  others,  caused  the 
houses  of  the  people  of  the  town  of  Kidderminster  to  be  searched 
for  arms,  and  if  any  had  a  sword,  it  was  taken  from  them.  And 
rneeting  him  after  with  the  bishop,  I  desired  him  to  tell  us  why 
his  neighbors  were  so  used,  as  if  he  would  have  made  the 
world  believe  they  were  seditious,  or  rebels,  or  dangerous  persons, 
that  should  be  used  as  enemies  to  the  king.  He  answered  me, 
that  it  was  because  they  would  not  bring  out  their  arms  when  they 
were  commanded,  but  said  they  had  none ;  whereas  they  had  arms 
on  every  occasion  to  appear  with  on  the  behalf  of  Cromwell. 
This  great  disingenuity  of  so  ancient  a  gentleman  towards  his 
neighbors,  whom  he  pretended  kindness  to,  made  me  break  forth 
mto  some  more  than  ordinary  freedom  of  reproof ;  so  that  I  answer- 
ed him,  we  had  thought  our  condition  hard,  that  by  strangers  who 
knew  us  not,  we  should  be  ordinarily  traduced  and  misrepresented  ; 
but  this  was  most  sad  and  marvelous,  that  a  gentleman  so  civil 
should,  before  the  bishop,  speak  such  words  against  a  corporation, 
which  he  knew  I  was  able  to  confute,  and  were  so  contrary  to 
truth.  I  asked  him  whether  he  did  not  know  that  I  publicly  and 
privately  spake  against  the  usurpers,  and  declared  them  to  be 
rebels ;  and  whether  he  took  not  the  people  to  be  of  my  mind ; — 
and  whether  I  and  they  had  not  hazarded  our  liberty  by  refusing 
the  engagement  against  the  king  and  house  of  lords,  when  he 
and  others  of  his'  mind  had  taken  it.  He  confessed  that  I  had 
been  against  Cromwell ;  but  they  had  always,  on  every  oc- 
casion, appeared  in  arms  for  him.  *  I  told  him  that  he  stmck  me 
with  admiration,  that  it  should  be  possible  for  him  to  live  in  the 
town,  and  yet  believe  what  he  said  to  be  true,  or  yet  to  speak  it 
in  our  hearing  if  he  knew  it  to  be  untrue.  And  I  professed  that, 
having  lived  there  sixteen  years  since  the  wars,  I  never  knew  that 
they  once  appeared  in  arms  for  Cromwell,  or  any  usurpers ;  and 
challenged  him,  upon  his  word,  to  name  one  time.  I  could  not  get 
him  to  name  any  time,  till  I  had  urged  him  to  the  utmost ;  and 
then  he  instanced  in  the  time  when  the  Scots  army  fled  from 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  169 

Worcester.  I  challenged  him  to  name  one  man  of  them  that  was 
at  Worcester  fight,  or  bare  arms  there,  or  at  any  time,  for  the 
usurpers ;  and  when  he  could  name  none,  I  told  him  that  all  that 
was  done,  to  my  knowledge,  in  sixteen  years,  of  that  kind,  was 
but  this,  that  when  the  Scots  fled  from  Worcester,  as  all  the  country 
souiJ-ht  in  covetousness  to  catch  some  of  them  for  the  sake  of  their 
horses,  so  two  idle  rogtres  of  Kidderminster,  that  never  communi- 
cated with  me  any  more  than  he  did,  had  drawn  two  or  three 
neighbors  with  them  in  the  night,  as  the  Scots  fled,  to  catch  their 
hfirses.  And  I  never  heard  of  three  that  they  caught;  and  .1  ap- 
pealed to  the  bishop  and  his  conscience,  whether  he — that,  being 
urged,  could  name  no  more  but  this — did  ingenuously  accuse  the 
corporation,  .magistrates  and  people,  to  have  appeared  on  all  occa- 
sions in  arms  for  Cromwell  ?  And  when  they  had  no  more  to  say, 
I  told  them  by  this  we  saw  what  measures  to  expect  from  stran- 
gers of  his  mind,  when  he  that  is  our  neighbor,  and  noted  for 
eminent  civility,  never  sticketh  to  speak  such  things  even  of  a 
people  among  whom  he  hath  still  lived. 

"  Near  the  same  time,  about  twenty  or  two-and-twenty  furious 
fanatics,  "called  Fifth-Monarchy  men,  (one  Venner,  a  wine-cooper, 
and  his  church  that  he  preached  unto,)  being  transported  with  en- 
thusiastic pride,  did  rise  up  in  arms,  and  fougiit  in  the  streets  like 
madmen  against  all  that  stood  in  their  way,  till  there  were  some 
killed,  and  the  rest  taken,  judged,  ^nd  executed.  I  wrote  a  letter 
at  this  time  to  my  mother-in-law,  contaiping  nothing  but  our  usual 
matter,  even  encouragements  to  her  in  her  age  and  weakness,  fetch- 
ed from  the  nearness  of  her  rest,  together  with  the  report  of  this 
news,  and  some  sharp  and  vehement  words  against  the  rebels.  By 
means  of  Sir  John  Packington,  or  his  soldiers,  the  post  was  search- 
ed, and  my  letter  intercepted,  opened  and  revised,  and  by  Sir  John 
sent  up  to  London  to  the  bishop,  and  the  lord  chancellor.  It  was 
a  wonder,  that,  having  read  it,  they  were  not  ashamed  to  send  it 
up;  but  joyful  would  they  have  been,  could  they  have  found  a  word 
in  it  which  could  possibly  have  been  distorted  to  an  evil  sense, 
that  malice  might  have  had  its  prey.  I  went  to  the  lord  chancel- 
lor and  complained  of  this  usage,  and  that  I  had  not  the  common 
liberty  of  a  subject  to  converse  by  letters  with  my  own  family. 
He  disowned  it,  and  blamed  men's  rashness,  but  excused  it  from 
the  distempers  of  the  times ;  yet  he  and  the  bishops  confessed  they 
had  seen  the  letter,  and  that  there  was  nothing  in  it  but  what  was 
good  and  pious.  Two  days  after,  came  the  Lord  Windsor,  lord- 
lieutenant  of  the  county,  and  governor  of  Jamaica,  with  Sir  Charles 
Littleton,  the  king's  cup-bearer,  to  bring  me  my  letter  again  to  my 
lodgings,  and  Lord  Windsor  told  me  the  lord  chancellor  appointed 
him  to  do  it.  And  after  some  expression  of  my  sense  of  the  abuse, 
VOL.  I.  .2-2 


170  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

I  thanked  him  for  his  great  civihty  and  favor.  But  I  saw  how  far 
that  sort  of  men  were  to  be  trusted."* 

While  these  things  were  done,  Baxter  preached  in  various 
churchesof  the  metropohs  as  he  had  opportunity.  About  one  year 
after  his  leaving  Kidderminster,  he  accepted  a  lectureship  at  St. 
Dunstan's  Church  in  Fleet  Street,  where  Dr.  Bateswas  pastor,  and 
preached  there  statedly  in  the  afternoon  of  every  Lord's  day,  receiv- 
ing some  small  compensation  from  the  people.  "  Seeing  which  way 
things  were  going,  he,  for  his  better  security,  applied  to  Bishop 
Sheldon,  for  his  license  to  preach  in  his  diocese.  Some  were  (jf- 
fended  at  his  taking  this  step  ;  but  he  went  to  him  as  the  king's  offi- 
cer. The  bishop  received  him  with  abundance  of  respect,  but  of- 
fered him  the  book  to  subscribe  in.  He  pleaded  theJking's  decla- 
ration as  exempting  from  a  necessity  of  subscribing.  The  bishop 
bid  him  therefore  write  what  he  would.  Whereupon,  he  subscrib- 
ed a  promise,  in  Latin,  not  to  preach  against  the  doctrine  of  the 
church  or  the  ceremonies  in  his  diocese  as  long  as  he  used  his 
license.  Upon  which  he  freely  gave  him  his  license,  and  would 
let  his  secretary  take  no  money  of  him.  And  yet  he  could  scarce 
preach  a  sermon  but  he  was  informed  from  some  quarter  or  other, 
that  he  preached  sedition,  and  reflected  on  the  government."!  Ke 
says  himself,  "  I  scarce  think  that  I  ever  preached  a  sermon  with- 
out a  spy  to  give  them  his  report  of  it.'-'  Sometimes  he  preached 
explicitly  "  against  faction,  schism,  sedition  and  rebellion,  and  those 
sermons  also"  he  says,  "were  reported  to  be  factious  and  sedi- 
tious." Several  discourses  against  which  such  charges  were  prefer- 
red, he  felt  himself  constrained  to  publish  in  self-defence.  The 
book  thus  produced  is  entitled  "The  Vain  Religion  of  the  Formal 
Hypocrite." 

Speaking  of  his  ministry  at  St.  Dunstan's,  he  says,  "  The  con- 
gregation being  crowded,  was  that  which  provoked  envy  to  accuse 
me  ;  and  one  day  the  crowd  did  drive  me  from  my  place.  It  fell 
out  that  at  Dunstan's  church,  in  the  midst  of  sermon,  a  little  lime 
and  dust,  and  perhaps  a  piece  of  a  brick  or  two,  fell  down  in  the 
steeple  or  belfry  near  the  boys  ;  which  put  the  whole  congregation 
into  sudden  melancholy,  so  that  they  thought  the  steeple  and  church 
were  falling  ;  which  put  them  all  into  so  confused  a  haste  to  get 
away,  that  indeed  the  noise  of  their  feet  in  the  galleries  sounded 
like  the  falling  of  the  stones.  The  people  crowded  out  of  doors ; 
the  women  left  some  of  them  a  scarf,  and  some  a  shoe  behind  them, 
and  some  in  the  galleries  cast  themselves  down  upon  those  below, 
because  they  could  not  get  down  the  stairs.     I  sat  still  down  in 


*    Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  300,  301. 
t   Calamy's  Abpidgment,  pp.  576,  577. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  171 

the  pulpit,  seeing  and  pitying  their  vain  distemper,  and  as  soon  as  I 
could  be  heard,  1  entreated  their  silence,  and  went  on.  The  peo- 
ple were  nb  sooner  quieted  and  got  in  again,  and  the  auditory  com- 
posed, but  some  that  stood  upon  a  wainscot-bench,  near  the  com- 
munion table,  brake  the  bench  with  their  weight,  so  that  the  noise 
renewed  the  fear  again,  and  they  were  worse  disordered  than  be- 
fore. One  old  woman  was  heard  at  the  church  door  asking  for- 
giveness of  God  for  not  taking  the  first  warning,  and  promising,  if 
God  would  deliver  her  this  once,  she  would  take  heed  of  coming 
hither  again.  When  they  were  again  quieted,  I  went  ort ;  but  the 
church  having  before  an  ill  name  as  very  old,  rotten  and  danger- 
ous, tbis  put  the  parish  upon  a  resolution  to  pull  down  all  the  roof, 
and  build  it  better,  which  they  have  done  with  so  great  reparation 
of  the  walls  and  steeple,  that  it  is  now  like  a  new  church,  and  much 
more  commodious  for  the  hearers."* 

Dr.  Bates,  in  his  sermon  on  occasion  of  Baxter's  funeral,  de- 
scribes this  incident  as  "  an  instance  of  his  firm  faith  in  the  divine 
providence,  and  his  fortitude."  "  Mr.  Baxter,  w  ithout  visible  dis- 
turbance, sat  down  in  the  pulpit.  After  the  hurry  w^as  over,  he 
resumed  his  discourse,  and  said,  to  compose  their  minds,  '  We  are 
in  the  service  of  God  to  prepare  ourselves,  that  we  may  be  fearless 
at  the  great  noise  of  the  dissolving  world,  when  thfe  heavens  shall 
pass  away,  and  the  elements  melt  in  fervent  heat ;  the  earth  also 
and  the  works  therein  shall_be  burned  up.'  "f 

"Upon  this  reparation  of  Dunstan's  church,  I  preached  out  my 
quarter  at  Bride's  church,  in  the  other  end  of  Fleet  Street ;  where 
the  common  prayer  being  used  by  the  curate  before  sermon,  I  oc- 
casioned abundance  to  be  at  common  prayer,  who  before  avoided 
it ;  and  yet  my  accusations  still  continued.  On  the  week  days, 
Mr.  Ashurst,  with  about  twenty  more  citizens,  desired  me  to  preach 
a  lecture  in  Milk  Street ;  for  which  they  allowed  me  .forty  pounds 
per  annum,  which  I  continued  near  a  year,  till  we  were  all  silenc- 
ed. At  the  same  time  I  preached  once  every  Lord's  day  at  Black- 
friars,  where  Mr.  Gibbons,  a  judicious  man,  was  minister.  In  Milk 
Street,  I  took  money,  because  it  came  not  from  the  parishioners, 
but  from  strangers,  and  so  was  no  wrong  to  the  minister,  Mr.  Vin- 
cent, a  very  holy,  blameless  man.  But  at  Blackfriars  1  never  took 
a  penny,  because  it  was  the  parishioners  who  called  me,  who  would 
else  be  less  able  and  ready  to  help  their  worthy  pastor,  who  went 
to  God  by  a  consumption,  a  little  after  he  was  silenced  and  put  out. 
At  these  two  churches  I  ended  the  course  of  my  public  ministry, 
unless  God  cause  an  undeserved  resurrection. "J 

•  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  301,  302.  t  Bates's  Works,  Vol.  IV.  p.  32?. 

t  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  ,301,  302. 


172  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

"  Shortly  after  our  disputation  at  the  Savoy,  I  went  toRickmers- 
worth,  in  Hertfordshire,  and  preached  there  but  once,  from  Matt, 
xxii.  12,  '  And  he  was  speechless.'  I  spake  not  a  word  that  was 
any  nearer  kin  to  sedition,  or  that  had  any  greater  tendency  to  pro- 
voke them,  than  by  showing  that  wicked  men,  and  the  refusers  of 
grace,  however  they  may  have  now  many  things  to  say  to  excuse 
their  sin,  will,  at  last,  be  speechless,  and  dare  not  stand  to  their 
wickedness  before  God.  Yet  did  the  bishop  of  Worcester  tell  me, 
when  he  silenced  me,  that  the  bishop  of  London  had  showed  him 
letters  from  one  of  the  hearers,  assuring  him,  that  I  preached  sedi- 
tiously. So  little  security  was  any  man's  innocency,  who  displeas- 
ed the  bishops,  to  his  reputation  with  that  party,  if  he  had  but  one 
auditor  that  desired  to  get  favor  by  accusing  him.  A  multitude  of 
such  experiences  made  me  perceive,  when  I  was  silenced,  that  there 
was  some  mercy  in  it  in  the  midst  of  judgment;  fori  should  scarce 
have  preached  a  sermon,  or  put  up  a  prayer  to  God,  which  one  or 
other,  through  malice  or  hope  of  favor,  would  not  have  been  tempt- 
ed to  accuse  as  guilty  of  some  hainous  crime.  And  as  Seneca 
saith,  '  He  that  hath  an  ulcer,  crieth  OH !  if  he  do  but  think  you 
touched  him.' 

"  Soon  after  my  return  to  London,  I  vyentinto  Worcestershire,  to 
try  whether  it  'were  possible  to  have  any  honest  terms  from  the 
reading  vicar  there,  that  I  might  preach  to  my  former  flock ;  but 
when  I  had  preached  twice  or  thrice,  he  denied  me  liberty  to  preach 
any  more.  I  offered  to  take  my  lecture,  which  he  was  bound  to 
allow  me,  under  a  bond  of  £500 ;  but  he  refused  it.  I  next  offer- 
ed to  be  his  curate,  and  he  refused  it.  I  next  offered  to  preach 
for  nothing,  and  he  refused  it ;  and,  lastly,  I  desired  leave  but  once 
to  administer  the  sacrament  to  the  people,  and  preach  my  farewell 
sermon  to  them  ;  but  he  would  not  consent.  At  last,  I  understood 
that  he  was  directed  by  his  superiors  to  do  what  he  did.  But 
Mr.  Baldwin,  an  able  preacher  whom  I  left  there,  was  yet  per- 
mitted. 

"  At  that  time,  my  aged  father  lying  in  great  pain  of  the  stone 
and  strangury,  I  went  to  visit  hhn,  twenty  miles  further ;  and  while 
I  was  there,  Mr.  Baldwin  came  to  me,  and  told  me  that  he  also  was 
forbidden  to  preach.  We  returned  both  to  Kidderminster,  and 
liaving  a  lecture  at  ShefFn'al  in  the  way,  I  preached  there,  and  staid 
not  to  hear  the  evening  sermon,  because  I  would  make  haste  to  the 
bishop.  It  fell  out  that  my  turn  at  another  lecture  was  on  the  same 
day  with  that  at  ShefFnal,  viz.,  at  Cleobury,  in  Shropshire;  and 
many  were  met  in  expectation  to  hear  me.  But  a  company 
of  soldiers  were  there,  as  the  country  thought,  td  have  apprehended 
me ;  who  shut  the  doors  against  the  minister  that  would  have 
preached  in  my  stead,  bringilig  a  conmiand  to  the  churchwarden  to 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  173 

hinder  any  one  that  had  not  a  Hcense  from  the  hishop ;  and  the 
poor  people,  who  had  come  from  far,  were  fain  to  go  home  with 
grieved  hearts. 

"  The  next  day,  it  was  confidently  reported,  that  a  certain 
knight  offered  the  bishop  his  troop  to  apprehend  me,  if  I  offered  to 
preach ;  and  the  people  dissuaded  me  from  going  to  the  bishop, 
supposing  my  liberty  in  danger.  I  went  that  morning,  with  Mr. 
Baldwin,  and  in  ihe  hearing  of  him  and  Dr.  Warmestry,  then  dean 
of  Worcester,  I  reminded  the  bishop  of  his  promise  to  grant  me 
his  license,  &.C.,  but  he  refused  me  liberty  to  preach  in  his  diocese  ; 
though  I  offered  to  preach  only  on  the  Creed,  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
and  tlie  Ten  Commandments,  catechistical  principles,  and  only  to 
such  as  had  no  preaching."  "  And  since  then  I  never  preached 
in  his  diocese." 

"  Bishop  Morley  told  me,  when  he  silenced  me,  that  he  would 
take  care  that  my  people  should  be  no  losers,  but  should  be  taught 
as  well  as  they  were  by  me.  When  I  was  gone,  he  got  a  while  a 
few  scandalous  men,  with  some  that  were  more  civil,  to  keep  up 
the  lecture,  tiU  the  paucity  of  their  auditors  gave  them  a  pretense 
to  put  it  down.  He  came  himself  one  day,  and  preached  to  them 
a  long  invective  against  them  and  me  as  Presbyterians,  and  I  know 
not  what ;  so  that  the  people  wondered  that  ever  a  man  would 
venture  to  come  up  into  a  pulpit  and  speak  so  confidently  to  a 
people  that  he  knew  not,  the  things  which  they  commonly  knew 
to-  be  untrue.  And  this  sermon  vvas  so  far  from  winning  any  of 
them  to  the  estimation  of  their  new  bishop,  or  curing  that  which 
he  called  the  admiration  of  my  person,  (v.hich  was  his  great  en- 
deavor,) that  they  were  much  confirmed  in  their  former  judgments. 
But  still  the  bishop  looked  at  Kidderminster  as  a  factious,  schis- 
matical,  Presbyterian  people,  that  must  be  cured  of  their  over- 
valuing of  me,  and  then  they  would  be  cured  of  ah  the  rest. 
Whereas,  if  he  had  lived  with  them  the  twentieth  part  so  long  as  I 
had  done,  he  would  have  known  that  they  were  neither  Presbyte- 
rians, nor  factious,  nor  schismatical,  nor  seditious ;  but  a  people 
that  quietly  followed  their  hard  labor,  and  learned  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures, and  lived  a  holy,  blameless  life,  in  humility  and  peace  with 
all  men,  and  never  had  any  sect  or  separated  party  among  them, 
but  abhorred  all  faction  and  sidings  in  religion,  and  lived  in  love 
and  Christian  unity. 

"  Yet,  when  the  bishop  was  gone,  the  dean  came*  and  preached 
about  three  hours  to  fcure  them  of  the  admiration  of  my  person  ; 
and  a  month  after  came  again  and  preached  over  the  same,  per- 
suading the  people  that  they  were  Presbyterians,  and  schismatical, 
and  were  led  to  it  by  their  overvaluing  of  me.  Tlie  people  ad- 
mired at  the  temerity  of 'these  men,  and  really  thought  that  they 


174  LIFE    OF    RICHAKD    BAXTER. 

were  scarce  well  in  their  wits,  who  would  go  on  to  speak  things  so 
far  from  truth,  of  men  whom  they  never  knew,  and  that  to  their 
own  faces."  "  This  deahng,  instead  of  winning  them  to  the 
preacher,  drove  them  from  the  lecture,  and  then,  as  I  said,  they 
accused  the  people  of  deserting  it,  and  put  it  down. 

"  For  this  ordinary  preacher,  they  set  up  one,  of  the  best  parts 
they  could  get,  far  from  what  his  patrons  spake  him  to  be,  who 
was  quickly  weary  and  went  away.  And  next  they  set  up  a  poor, 
dry  man,  that  had  been  a  schoolmaster  near  us,  and  after  a  little 
time  he  died.  And  since,  they  have  taken  another  course,  and 
set  up  a  young  man^  the  best  they  can  get,  who  taketh  the  con- 
trary way  to  the  first,  and  over-applaudeth  me  in  the  pulpit,  and 
speaketh.  well  of  them,  and  useth  them  kindly.  And  they  are 
glad  of  one  that  hath  Some  charity.  And  thus  the  bishop  hath 
used  that  flock,  who  say  that,  till  then,  they  never  knew  so  well 
what  a  bishop  was,  nor  were  before  so  guilty  of  that  dislike  of 
Episcopacy  of  which  they  were  so  frequently  and  vehemently 
accused.  I  hear  not  Of  one  person  among  them,  who  is  won  to 
the  love  of  prelacy  or  formality  since  my  removal. 

"  Having  parted  with  my  dear  flock,  I  need  not  say  with  mutual 
sense  and  tears,  1  left  Mr.  Baldwin  to  live  privately  among  them, 
and  oversee  them  in  my  stead,  and  visit  them  from  house  to  house  ; 
advising  them,  notwithstanding  all  the  injuries  they  had  received, 
and  all  the  failings  of  the  ministers  that  preached  to  them,  and  the 
defects  of  the  present  way  of  worship,  that  they  should  keep  to 
the  public  assemblies,  and  make  use  of  such  helps  as  might  be  had 
in  public,  together  with  their  private  helps. '  Only  in  three  cases 
they  ought  to  absent  themselves.  1.  When  the  minister  was  one 
that  was  utterly  insufficient,  as .  not  being  able  to  teach  them  the 
articles  of  the  faith  and  essentials  of  true  religion  ;  such  as,  alas ! 
they  had  known  to  their  sorrow.  2.  When  the  minister  preached 
any  heresy,  or  doctrine  which  was  directly  contrary  to  any  article 
of  the  faith,  or  necessary  part  of  godliness.  3.  When  in  the  ap- 
plication he  set  himself  against  the  ends  of  his  office,  to  make  a 
holy  life  seem  odious,  to  keep  men  from  it,  and  to  promote  'the 
interest  of  Satan.  Yet  not  to  take  every  bitter  reflection  upon 
themselves  or  others,  occasioned  by  difference  of  opinion  or  interest, 
to  be  a  sufficient  cause  to  say  that  the  minister  preacheth  against 
godlmess,  or  to  withdraw  themselves.''* 

Soon  after  this,  Baxter's  ministry  in  the  church  of  England  was 
terminated  by  the  celebrated  "Act  of  Uniformity."  The  greatest 
diligence  had  been  employed  by  the  court  party  to  secure  a  par- 
liament suited  to  their  purposes.     Sham  plots  .and  flying  rumors 

• i 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  374,  376. 


LIFE    OF    KICHARD    BAXTER.  •  175 

of  conspiracies  were  got  up,  to  throw  the  nation  into  a  panic,  and 
to  prepare  the  pubHc  mind  for  fhe  most  violent  proceedings  against 
those  whom  the  lord  chancellor,  in  the  house  of  commons,  de- 
nounced and  vihfied  as  "seditious  preachers."  Of  some  of  this 
management,  we  find  in  Baxter's  Narrative  the  following  naked 
statement. 

"  In  November,  (1661,)  many  worthy  ministers  and  others  were 
imprisoned  in  many  counties ;  and  among  others,  divers  of  my  old 
neighbors  in  Worcestershire.  And  that  you  may  see  what  crimes 
were  the  occasion,  I  will  tell  you  the  story  of  it.  One  Mr.  Am- 
brose Sparry,  a  sober,  learned  minister,  that  had  never  owned  the 
parliament's  cause  or  wars,  and  was  in  his  judgment  for  moderate 
Episcopacy,  had  a  wicked  neighbor,  whom  he  reproved  for  adul- 
tery, who,  bearing  him' a  grudge,  thought  he  had  found  a  time  to 
show  it.  He,  or  his  confederates  for  him,  framed  a  letter  as  from, 
I  know  not  whom,  directed  to  Mr.  Sparry,  '  That  he  and  Captain 
Yarrington  should  be  ready  with  money  and  arms  at  the  time  ap- 
pointed, and  that  they  should  acquaint  Mr.  Oasland  and  Mr.  Bax- 
ter with  it.'  This  letter  he  pretended  that  a  man  left  behind  him 
under  a  hedge,  who  sat  down  and  pulled  out  many  letters,  and  put 
them  all  up  again  save  tliis,  and  wept  his  ways — he  knew  not  what 
he  was,  or  whither  he  went.  This  letter  he  bringeth  to  Sir  John 
Packington,  the  man  that  hotly  followed  such  work,  who  sent  Mr. 
Sparry,  Mr.  Oasland  and  Captain  Yarrington  to  prison."  "  Who 
that  Mr.  Baxter  was  that  the  letter  named,  they  could  not  resolve, 
there  being  another  of  the  name  nearer,  and  I  being  in  London. 
But  the  men,  especially  Mr.  Sparry,  lay  long  in  prison ;  ajid  when 
the  forgery  and  injury  was  detected,  he  had  much  ado  to  get  out. 
Mr.  Henry  Jackson,  also,  our  physician  at  Kidderminster,  and 
many  of  my  neighbors,  were  imprisoned,  and  were  never  told  for 
what  to  this  day."  "  Though  no. one  accused  me  of  any  thing, 
nor  spake  a  word  to  me  of  it,  (seeing  they  knew  I  had  long  been 
near  a  hundred  miles  off,)  yet  did  they  defame  me  all  over  the 
land,  as  guilty  of  a  plot;  and  when  men  were  taken  up  and  sent 
to  prison  in  other  counties,  it  was  said  to  be  for  '  Baxter's  plot ; ' — 
so  easy  was  it,  and  so  necessary  a  thing  it  seemed  then,  to  cast  such 
filth  upon  my  name."* 

*  Narrative,  Pa^t  II.  p.  333.  Tha  following  statement,  differing  in  some 
particulars  from  that  given  above,  is  from  a  note  in  Calamy's  Abridgment, 
Chap.  viii.  pp.  177,  180.  "  Captain  Yarrington  (a  man  of  an  esUiblished  reputa- 
tion) did  in  1681  publish  a  full  discovery  of  the  tirst  Presbyterian  sham  plot.  In 
which  discovery  he  declares  he  related  nothing  but  what  he  could  prove  by 
letters,  and  many  living  witnesses ;  and  his  account  wa.-!  never  publicly  con- 
tradicted. He  says,  that  many,  both  of  the  clergy  and  laity,  disliking  the  king's 
declaration  concerning  ecclesiastical  affairs,  resolved  to  run  things  to  the  utmost 
height;  and  that  some  of  the  leading  churchmen  were  heard  to  say,  they  would 


176  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

'•'  And  tliough,  through  tlie  great  mercy  of  God,  I  had  long  been 
learning  not  to  overvalue  the  thoughts  of  men,  no,  not  so  much 
as  tlie  reputation  of  honesty,  or  innocency,  yet  I  was  somewhat 
wearied  with  this  kind  of  life,  to  be  every  day  calumniated,  and 
hear  new  slanders  raised  of  me,  and  court  and  country  ring  of  that 
which  no  man  ever  mentionecl  to  my  face  ;  and  I  v/as  oft  thinking 
to  go  beyond  sea,  that  I  might  find  some  place  in  retired  privacy, 
to  live  and  end  my-  days  in  quietness,  out  of  the  noise  of  a  peace- 
hating  generation.  But  my  acquaintance  thought  I  might  be  more 
serviceable  here,  though  there  I  might  live  more  in  quietness ; — 
and  having  not  the  vulgar  language  of  any  country  to  enable  me 
to  preach  to  them,  or  converse  with  them ;  and  being  so  infirm  as 
not  to  be  like  to  bear  the  voyage  and  change  of  air ; — these,  with 
other  impediments  which  God  laid  in  my  way,  hindered  me  from 
putting  my  thoughts  in  execution." 

The  sham  plots  having  had  the  desired  effect ;  and  the  Convo- 
cation having  revised  the  prayer  book,  and  having  made  it  more 
grievous  to  men  of  Puritan  principles  than  before,  l3y  the  addition 

have  an  act  so  framed  as  would  reach  every  Puritan  in  the  kingdom ;  and  that, 
if  they  thought  any  qf  them  would  sq  stretch  their  consciences,  as  to  be  compre- 
hended by  it,  they  would  insert  yet  other  conditions  and  subscriptions,  so  as 
that  they  should  have  no  benefit  by  it.  To  pave  the  way  for  it,  they  contrive  a 
Presbyterian  plot,  which  was  laid  in  about  thirty-six  several  counties.  As  to 
Worcestershire,  he  gives  a  like  account  with  Mr.  Baxter,  only  with  the  addi- 
tion of  many  particulars.     He  says,  several  letters  were  drawn  up  and  delivered 

by  Sir  John  P to  one   Rich.  N ,  his  neighbor,  to  convey  them   to  one 

Cole  of  Martley,  who,  with  one  Churn,  brings  them  again  to  Sir  John  P , 

from  who^i  tliey  came,  making  affidavit,  That  he  found  the  packet  left  by  a 
Scotch  pedlar  under  a  hedge.  In  this  packet,  when  it  was  opened,  there  were 
found  several  letters,  discovering  a  conspiracy  to  raise  a  rebellion.  There  were 
several  letters  to  the  captain  ;  one  from  Mr.  Baxter  of  Kidderminster,  intimat- 
ing, That  he  had  provided  a  considerable  body  of  men,  well  armed,  which  should 
be  ready  against  the  time  appointed.  And  another  from  Mr.  Sparry,  intimating, 
He  hiid  ordered  him  500/.  lodged  in  a  friend's  hand,  &c.  Upon  tliis,  the  mili- 
tia of  the  county  was  raised  immediately,  and  the  city  of  Worcester  filled  with 
them  the  very  night  after  the  packet  was  opened.  The  next  morning  the  cap- 
tain was  seized  by  a  troop  of  horse,  and  brought  prisoner  to  Worcester;  and  so 
also  were  Mr.  Sparry,  Mr.  Oasland,  Mr.  Moor,  and  Mr.  Brian,  ministers,  together 
with  some  scores  of  others.  They  were  all  kept  close  prisoners  for  ten  days;  by 
which  time  the  trained  bands  being  weary,  most  of  them  were  discharged,  paying 
their  fees.  But  the  captain,  Mr.  Sparry,  and  the  two  Oaslands,  were  still  kept 
close  prisoners  in  the  George  Inn,  the  dignitaries  of  the  cathedral  taking  care, 
when  the  trained  bands  retired,  to  raise  sixty  foot  soldiers  (who  had  double  pay, 
and  were  called  the  clergy  band)  to  secure  these  criminals.  And  besides  the 
sentinels  upon  each  of  the  prisoners,  they  had  a  court  of  guard  at  the  town  hall 
of  Worcester."  "  At  length  Mrs.  Yarrington  discovering  the  sham  intrigue, 
by  the  acknowledgment  which  the  person  employed  by  Sir  J.  P.  to  carry  the 
packet  to  Cole  of  Martley,  made  to  his  brother,  she  gives  notice  of  it  to  her 
husband  in  his  confinement,  who  immediately  enters  actions  against  those  that 
imprisoned  him.  Being  at  last  discharged,  he  comes  up  to  London,  and  pre- 
vailed with  the  lord  of  Bristol  to  acquaint  the  king  how  his  ministers  imposed 
upon  him  by  such  sham  plots,  »fec.  Upon  this,  the  deputy  lieutenants  were 
ordered  to  appear  at  the  council  board.     They  endeavored  to  clear  themselves, 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  177 

of  more  festivals  to  the  calendar,  and  more  lessons  out  of  the  apoc- 
rypha ;  the  bill  for  an  act  of  uniformity  was  introduced  into  the 
house  of  commons,  where,  after  several  debates,  it  passed  by  a 
majority  of  only  six  votes.  The  lords,  after  proposing  several 
amendments,  which  were  the  subject  of  a  conference  between  the 
two  houses,  at  last,  on  the  8th  of  May,  1662,  concurred  with  the 
commons ;  and,  ten  days  afterwards,  the  bill  received  the  royal 
assent,  and  became  one  of  the  laws  of  the  land. 

The  terms  of  uniformity  now  imposed  on  all  the  ministers  were : 

1 .  Such  as  had  not  been  ordained  by  a  bishop  must  be  re-ordained. 

2.  They  must  all  declare  their  "  unfeigned  assent  and  consent  to 
all  and  every  thing  prescribed  and  contained  in  the  book  of  com- 
mon prayer."  3.  They  must  swear  obedience  to  their  bishops 
and  other  ecclesiastical  superiors.  4.  They  must  most  solemnly 
abjure  and  condemn  the  solemn  league  and  covenant,  as  an  oath 
unlawful  in  itself  and  unlawfully  imposed.  5.  They  must  profess 
in  its  broadest  extent  the  doctrine  of  passive  obedience,  declaring 

and  desired  to  consult  those  in  the  country.  But  afterwards  Sir  J.  W.  (who 
was  one  of  them)  arrests  the  captain  for  high  treason.  He  was  again  released 
upon  the  earl  of  Bristol's  procuring  the  king's  privy  seal ;  and  going  down 
into  the  country,  he  prosecutes  his  prosecutors.  But  within  six  months,  per- 
sons were  suborned  to  swear  against  him,  That  he  had  spoken  treasonable 
words  against  the  king  and  o;overnment.  For  this  he  was  tried  at  the  assizes 
at  Worcester  before  Judge  lAvisden,  and  upon  a  full  hearing  was  presently  ac- 
quitted by  the  jury.  And  one  of  the  witnesses  (whom  he  names)  afterwards 
confessed  he  had  5/  given  him  for  being  an  evidence. 

"  This  feigned  plot  was  on  foot  in  0.\fordshire  at  the  same  time."  "There 
was  something  of  a  like  sham  plot  in  Leicestershire  and  Yorkshire.  See 
Conformist's  4th  Plea  for  the  Nonconf.  pp.  30,  40.  The  great  design  aimed  at 
by  these  methods,  was  to  possess  the  parliament,  that  it  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  make  a  severe  act  against  such  a  restless  sort  of  men,  who,  not  content- 
ed with  the  king's  pardon,  were  always  plotting  to  disturb  the  government. 
And  they  reached  their  end.  These  plots  and  stirs  in  several  counties  of  the 
land,  were  in  October  and  November,  Kitil.  And  on  the  20th  of  November, 
the  king,  appearing  in  the  house  after  an  adjournment,  made  a  speech  wherein 
are  these  words — '  I  am  sorry  to  find  that  the  general  temper  and  affections  of 
the  nation  are  not  so  well  composed  as  I  hoped  they  would  have  been,  after  so 
signal  blessings  of  God  Almiglity  upon  us  all,  and  after  so  great  indulgence 
and  condescensions  from  me  towards  all  interests  :  there  are  many  wicked  in- 
struments still  as  active  as  ever,  who  labor  night  and  day  to  disturb  the  public 
peace,  and  to  make  people  jealous  of  each  other.  It  may  be  worthy  your  care 
and  vigilance  to  provide  proper  remedies  for  diseases  of  that  kind  ;  and  if  you 
find  new  diseases,  you  must  find  new  remedies,  t&c'  When  the  house  of  com- 
mons, after  this  speech,  came  to  their  debates,  up  stands  J.  P.,  one  of  the 
knights  for  Worcestershire,  and  with  open  mouth  informs  them  of  a  dangerous 
Presbyterian  plot  on  foot;  and  that  many  of  the  chief  conspirators  were  now  in 
prison  at  Worcester.  The  like  information  was  given  by  some  members  who 
served  for  Oxfordshire,  Herefordshire,  Staffordshire,  and  other  places.  Nay, 
this  was  the  general  cry ;  this  all  the  pamphlets  printed  at  that  time  ran  upon. 
And  it  was  in  this  very  sessions  that  this  bill  of  uniformity  passed  the  house. 
And  that  the  general  cry  occasioned  by  these  sham  plots  much  promoted  it,  will 
easily  be  judged  by  any  one,  that  will  but  be  at  the  pains  to  peruse  Yarring- 
ton's  Narrative,  to  which  the  reader  is  referred  for  satisfaction." 

VOL.  I.  23 


178  LIFE  OF  RICUARB  BAXTER. 

the  unlawfulness  of  taking  arms  against  the  king  or  those  commis- 
sioned by  him,  upon  any  pretense  whatever. 

"  When  the  Act  of  Unifoi-mity  was  passed,"  says  Baxter,  "  it 
gave  no  longer  time  than  till  Bartholomew's  day,  Aug.  24,  1662, 
and  then  they  must  be  all  cast  out.  This  fatal  day  called  to  re- 
membrance the  French  massacre,  when,  on  the  same  day,  thirty 
or  forty  thousand  Protestants  perished  by  Roman  religious  zeal 
and  charity.  I  had  no  place  of  my  own  ;  but  I  preached  twice  a 
week,  by  request,  in  other  men's  congregations,  at  Milk  Street  and 
Blackfriars.  The  last  semaon  that  I  preached  in  public  was  on 
May  25.  The  reasons  why  I  gave  over  sooner  than  most  others 
were,  because  lawyers  did  interpret  a  doubtful  clause  in  the  act,  as 
ending  the  liberty  of  lecturers  at  that  time ;  because  I  W'ould  let 
authority  soon  know  that  1  intended  to  obey  in  all  that  was  lawful ; 
because  I  would  let  all  ministers  in  England  understand  in  time, 
whether  I  intended  to  conform  or  not ;  for,  had  I  staid  to  the  last  day, 
some  would  have  conformed  the  sooner,  from  a  supposition  that  1 
intended  it.  These,  with  other  reasons,  moved  me  to  cease  three 
months  before  Bartholomew's  day,  which  many  censured  for 
a  while,  but,  afterwards,  better  saw  the  reasons  of  it."* 

By  this  measure  about  two  thousand  ministers,  most  of  them  well 
qualified  for  their  office,  and  devoted  and  successful  in  their  work, 
w^ere  at  once  cast  out  of  their  places,  and  forbidden  to  preach  the 
gospel.  When  the  Popish  clergy  were  ejected  at  the  reformation, 
some  provision  was  made  for  their  relief ;  and  so  it  was  with  the  minis- 
ters deprived  by  the  Long  Parliament,  and  aftenvards  by  Cronnvell : 
at  both  those  periods,  one  fifth  of  the  income  of  the  living  was  uni- 
formly reserved  for  the  benefit  of  the  person  ejected.  But  in  this 
case,  these  two  thousand  ministers  were  turned  out  at  once  upon  the 
world  without  the  least  means  of  subsistence,  and  forbidden  even 
to  keep  "  any  public  or  private  school,"  or  to  "  instaxct  youth  in 
any  private  family."  "  And  now,"  says  Baxter,  "  came  in  the 
great  inundation  of  calamities,  which,  in  many  streams,  overwhelm- 
ed thousands  of  godly  Christians,  together  with  their  pastors.  As 
for  example  ;  1.  Hundreds  of  able  ministers,  with  their  wives  and 
children,  had  neither  house  nor  bread  ;  for  many  of  thern  had  not 
past  thirty  or  forty  pounds  per  annum  apiece,  and  most  but  sixty  or 
eighty  pounds  per  annum,  and  few  had  any  considerable  estates  of 
their  own.  2.  The  people's  poverty  was  so  great,  that  they  were 
not  able  much  to  relieve  their  ministers.  3.  The  jealousy  of  the 
state  and  the  malice  of  tlieir  enemies  were  so  great,  that  people 
that  were  willing  durst  not  be  known  to  give  to  their  ejected  pas- 
tors, lest  it  should  be  said  that  they  maintained  schism,  or  were 


Narrative,  Part  II.  p.  384. 


LIFE    OF    RICHAKD    BAXTER.  179 

making  collections  for  some  plot  or  insurrection.  4.  The  hearts  of 
the  people  were  much  grieved  for  the  loss  of  their  pastors.  5. 
Many  places  had  such  set  over  them  in  their  steads,  as  they  could 
not  with  conscience  or  comfort  commit  the  conduct  of  their  souls 
to ;  and  they  were  forced  to  own  all  these,  &,c.  by  receiving  the 
sacrament  in  the  several  parishes,  whether  they  would  or  not.  6. 
Those  that  did  not  this  were  to  be  excommunicated,  and  then  to 
have  a  writ  sued  out  against  them  de  excommunicato  capiendo,  to  lay 
them  in  the  jail,  and  seize  on  their  estates."  He  lengthens  out  th.s 
catalogue  of  evils  by  enumerating  the  many  divisions  among  min- 
isters and  among  Christians  which  the  great  controversy  of  the 
time  occasioned,  the  murmuring  and  complaining  of  the  people 
against  the  government ;  and  he  concludes  with  the  remark  that, 
"  by  all  these  sins,  these  murmurings,  and  these  violations  of  the 
interest  of  the  church  and  the  cause  of  Christ,  the  land  was  prepar- 
ed for  that  further  inundation  of  calamities,  by  war  and  plague,  and 
scarcity,  which  hath  since  brought  it  near  to  desolation." 

Till  this  time  Baxter  had  liv^ed  unmarried.  But  soon  after  the 
Bartholomew  ejection,  when  in  his  forty-seventh  year,  he  married 
a  lady  of  good  fiimily,  much  younger  than  himself,  whose  affection 
and  assiduity  did  much  to  alleviate  the  distresses  that  were  now  to 
follow  him.  Her  name  was  Margaret  Charlton.  She  had  been 
one  of  his  flock  during  some  part  of  his  ministry  at  Kidderminster, 
and  under  his  preaching  became  eminently  pious.  The  attach- 
ment between  them  seems  to  have  commenced  some  time  before, 
though  when  they  were  married  she  was  not  more  than  twenty- 
three  years  of  age.  Nearly  a  year  before  the  event  actually  took 
place,  he  says,  "  About  this  time,  it  was  famed  at  the  court  that  I 
was  married,  which  went  as  the  matter  of  a  most  hainous  crime, 
which  i  never  heard  charged  by  them  on  any  man  but  me.  Bishop 
Morley  divulged  it  with  all  the  odium  he  could  possibly  put  upon 
it;" — "and  it  everywhere  rung  about,  partly  as  a  wonder  and 
partly  as  a  crime."  "  And  I  think  the  king's  marriage  was  scarce 
more  talked  of  than  mine."* 

He  was  at  last  married,  Sept.  10,  1662.  "She  consented," 
he  says,  "  to  these  conditions  of  our  marriage :  First,  that  1  should 
have  nothing  that  before  our  marriage  was  hers  ;  that  I,  who  want- 
ed no  earthly  supplies,  might  not  seem  to  marry  her  for  covetous- 
ness.  Secondly,  that  she  would  so  alter  her  affairs  that  I  might  be 
entangled  in  no  lawsuits.  Thirdly,  that  she  would  expect  none  of 
my  time  which  my  ministerial  work  should  require."! 

The  Act  of  Uniformity  had  hardly  taken  etTect,  when  the  idea 
was  thrown  out  by  the  court  that  some  indulgence  might  yet  bo 

*  Narrative,  Part  IT.  p.  384. 

t  Breviate  of  the  lifii  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Baxter,  quoted  by  Ornie. 


180  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

granted  to  nonconformists,  by  the  exertion  of  the  royal  prerogative. 
The  king  hoped  in  this  way  to  secure  some  favor  for  his  Catholic 
friends.  He  knew  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  set  up  a  toleration 
of  the  Romish  worship  in  the  existing  state  of  public  feeling ;  and 
there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  tliat  he  and  many  about  the  court 
hoped  that  the  oppression  of  the  Protestant  nonconformists  would 
create  a  necessity  for  a  general  toleration,  under  which  he  might 
show  what  favor  he  pleased  to  the  Catholics. 

Accordingly,  "  on  the  26th  of  December,  1662,  the  king  sent 
forth  a  declaration  expressing  his  purpose  to  grant  some  indulgence 
or  liberty  in  religion,  not  excluding  the  Papists,  many  of  whom  had 
deserved  so  well  of  him."  But  the  great  body  of  nonconformists, 
unwilling  to  be  even  indirectly  instrumental  in  promoting  such  a 
design,  stood  aloof  from  the  court.  It  was  intimated  to  some  of 
them,  that  it  would  be  acceptable  if  they  would  own  this  declara- 
tion by  returning  thanks  for  the  oflered  indulgence.  The  design 
was,  that  they  should  be  the  means  of  securing  this  advantage  lor 
the  Papists  ;  and  that  they  should  stand  between  the  king  and  the 
odium  of  such  a  measure.  The  Presbyterians,  persuaded  of  the 
unlawfulness  of  tolerating  any  "intolerable"  error,  like  the  errors  of 
Popery,  could  not  give  thanks  for  an  indulgence  on  such  terms. 
The  Independents,  however,  having  clearer  views  of  the  great  doc- 
trine of  religious  liberty,  were  hindered  by  no  conscientious  scru- 
ples ;  and  were  always  ready  to  accept  and  to  ask  for  a  toleration 
on  the  broadest  basis.  But  the  king's  declaration,  like  every  meas- 
ure of  his  which  looked  towards  the  toleration  of  Popery,  was 
strongly  resisted  by  the  parliament. 

It  was  soon  discovered  that  the  laws  on  the  subject  of  religious 
uniformity,  with  all  their  pains  and  penalties,  were  by  no  means  to 
be  a  dead  letter.  Mr.  Calamy,  happening  to  be  present  at  the 
church  where  he  had  formerly  been  pastor,  on  an  occasion  when 
the  preacher  failed,  and  the  congregation  was  about  to  disperse, 
was  persuaded  to  preach,  under  tlie  impression  that  there  was  no 
provision  of  the  law  applicable  to  such  a  case ;  but  was  the  next 
week  sent  to  Newgate  prison.  After  a  few  days'  imprisonment,  he 
was  released ;  but  his  release  displeased  the  commons,  wlio  were 
beginning  to  watch  against  any  exercise  of  that  dispensing  power, 
which  they  knew  the  king  was  disposed  to  set  up  for  the  benefit  of 
his  Catholic  friends.  The  imprisonment  of  ministers  for  preaching 
either  publicly  or  privately,  was  a  common  thing.  "  As  we  were 
forbidden  to  preach,"  says  Baxter,  "  so  we  were  vigilantly  watched 
in  private,  that  we  migiit  not  exhort  one  another,  or  pray  together ; 
and,  as  I  foretold  them  oft,  how  they  would  use  us  when  they  had 
silenced  us,  every  meeting  for  jirayer  was  called  a  dangerous  meet- 
ing for  sedition,  or  a  conventicle  at  least.      I  will  now  give  but  one 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  181 

instance  of  their  ivindness  to  myself.  One  Mr.  Beale,  in  Hatton 
Garden,  having  a  son,  his  only  child,  and  very  towardly  and  hope- 
ful, long  sick  of  a  dangerous  fever,  who  had  been  brought  so  low 
that  the  physicians  thought  he  would  die,  desired  a  few  friends,  of 
whom  I  was  one,  to  meet  at  his  house  to  pray  for  him.  And  be- 
cause it  pleased  God  to  hear  our  prayers,  and  that  very  night  to 
restore  him,  his  mother  shortly  after  falling  sick  of  a  fever,  we  were 
desired  to  meet  to  pray  for  her  recovery,  the  last  day  when  she 
was  near  to  death.  Among  those  who  were  to  be  there,  it  fell  out 
that  Dr.  Bates  and  I  did  fail  them,  and  could  not  come ;  but  it  was 
known  at  Westminster  that  we  were  appointed  to  be  there,  where- 
upon two  justices  of  the  peace  were  procured  from  the  distant  parts 
of  the  town,  one  from  Westminster  and  one  fi'om  Clerkenwell,  to 
come  with  the  parliament's  Serjeant  at  arms  to  apprehend  us. 
They  came  in  the  evening,  when  part  of  the  com.pany  were  gone. 
There  were  then  only  a  few  of  their  kindred,  beside  two  or  three 
ministers  to  pray.  They  came  upon  them  into  the  room  where  the 
gentlewoman  lay  ready  to  die,  drew  the  curtains,  and  took  some  of 
their  names;  but,  missing  of  their  prey,  returned  disappointed. 
What  a  joy  would  it  have  been  to  them  that  reproached  us  as  Pres- 
byterian, seditious  schismatics,  to  have  found  but  such  an  occasion 
as  praying  with  a  dying  woman,  to  have  laid  us  up  in  prison  !  "* 

In  the  beginning  of  the  following  year,  the  talk  of  liberty  to  the 
silenced  ministers  began  to  be  revived ;  and  it  was  much  debated 
among  them  and  their  friends  whether  toleration  as  dissenters,  or 
comprehension  as  a  part  of  the  establishment,  were  the  more  de- 
sirable scheme.  But  "  instead  of  indulgence  and  comprehension," 
says  Baxter,  "  on  the  last  day  of  June,  1663,  the  bill  against  pri- 
vate meetings  for  religious  exercises  passed  the  house  of  connnons, 
and  shortly  after  was  made  a  law.  The  sum  of  it  was, '  that  every 
person  above  sixteen  years  old,  who  is  present  at  any  meeting 
under  color  or  pretence  of  any  exercise  of  religion,  in  other  manner 
than  is  allowed  by  the  liturgy  or  practice  of  the  church  of  England, 
where  there  are  five  persons  more  than  that  household,  shall,  for 
the  first  offense,  by  a  justice  of  peace,  be  recorded,  and  sent  to  jail 
three  months,  till  he  pay  five  pounds;  and,  for  the  second  offense, 
six  months,  till  he  pay  ten  pounds ;  and  the  third  time,  being  con- 
victed by  a  jury,  shall  be  banished  to  some  of  the  American  plan- 
tations, excepting  New  England  or  Virginia.'  The  calamity  of  the 
act,  beside  the  main  matter,  was,  1.  That  it  was  made  so  ambiguous, 
that  no  man  that  ever  I  met  with  could  tell  what  was  a  violation  of 
it,  and  what  not ;  not  knowing  what  was  allowed  by  the  liturgy  or 


*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  431,  432. 


182  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

practice  in  the  clmrch  of  England  in  families,  because  the  liturgy 
iiieddleth  not  with  families  ;  and  among  the  diversity  of  family  prac- 
tice, no  man  knoweth  what  to  call  the  practice  of  the  church. 
2.  Because  so  much  power  was  given  to  the  justices  of  the  peace 
to  record  a  man  an  offender  without  a  jury,  and  if  he  did  it  cause- 
lessly, we  were  without  any  remedy,  seeing  he  was  made  a  judge." 
"  And  now  came  in  the  people's  trial,  as  well  as  the  ministers'. 
While  the  danger  and  sufferings  lay  on  the  ministers  alone,  the 
people  were  very  courageous,  and  exhorted  tliem  to  stand  it  out 
and  preach  till  they  went  to  prison.  But  when  it  came  to  be  their 
own  case,  they  were  as  venturous  till  they  were  once  surprised  and 
imprisoned  ;  but  then  their  judgments  were  much  altered,  and  they 
that  censured  ministers  before  as  cowardly,  because  they  preached 
not  publicly,  whatever  followed,  did  now  think  that  it  was  better 
to  preach  often  in  secret  to  a  few,  than  but  once  or  twice  in  public 
to  many ;  and  that  secrecy  was  no  sin,  when  it  tended  to  the  fur- 
therance of  the  work  of  the  gospel,  and  to  the  church's  good.  Es- 
pecially the  rich  were  as  cautious  as  the  ministers.  But  yet  their 
meetings  were  so  ordinary,  and  so  well  known,  that  it  greatly  tended 
to  the  jailers'  commodity. 

"  It  was  a  great  strait  that  the  people  were  in,  especially  who 
dwelt  near  any  busy  officer,  or  malicious  enemy.  Many  durst  not 
pray  in  their  flimilies,  if  above  four  persons  came  in  to  dine  with 
them."  "  Some  thought  they  might  venture  if  they  withdrew  into 
another  room,  and  left  the  strangers  by  themselves ;  but  others  said, 
It  is  all  one  if  they  be  in  the  same  house,  though  out  of  hearing, 
when  it  cometh  to  the  judgment  of  the  justices.  In  London,  where 
the  houses  are  contiguous,  some  thought  if  they  were  in  several 
houses,  and  heard  one  another  through  the  wall  or  a  window,  it 
would  avoid  the  law ;  but  others  said,  it  is  all  in  vain  whilst  the 
justice  is  judge  whether  it  was  a  meeting  or  no.  Great  lawyers 
said,  If  you  coine  on  a  visit  or  business,  though  you  be  present  at 
prayer  or  sermon,  it  is  no  breach  of  the  law,  because  you  met  not 
on  pretence  of  a  religious  exercise;  but  those  that  tried  them  said, 
Such  words  are  but  wind,  when  the  justices  come  to  judge  you. 
"  And  here  the  Quakers  did  greatly  relieve  the  sober  people  for 
a  time ;  for  they  were  so  resolute,  and  so  gloried  in  their  constan- 
cy and  sufferings,  that  they  assembled  openly  at  the  Bull  and 
Mouth,  near  Aldersgate,  and  were  dragged  away  daily  to  the  com- 
mon jail ;  and  yet  desisted  not,  but  the  rest  came  the  next  day, 
nevertheless ;  so  that  the  jail  at  Newgate  v.as  filled  with  them. 
Abundance  of  them  died  in  prison,  and  yet  they  continued  their 
assemblies  still.  They  would  sometimes  meet  only  to  sit  still  in 
silence,  when,  as  they  said,  the  Spirit  did  not  speak ;  and  it  was  a 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 


183 


great  question,  whether  tliis  silence  was  a  reUgious  exercise  not 
allowed  by  the  liturgy,  &:c."* 

Notwithstanding  all  this  persecution,  many  of  the  nonconformists, 
including  such  men  as  Baxter,  and  Bates,  and  Calamy,  insisted  on 
the  propriety  of  occasional  communion  with  the  church  of  England, 
by  attending  on  the  public  worship  at  the  parish  churches,  and  by 
receiving  the  Lord's  supper  at  the  hands  of  the  more  serious  and 
exemplary  among  the  established  clergy.  This  occasioned  an  un- 
happy division  among  those  who  at  such  a  time  needed  to  act  in 
concert ;  and  it  limited  the  influence  of  these  men  with  their  suf- 
fering exasperated  brethren. 

The  opportunity  of  doing  good  by  public  preaching  being  at  an 
end,  Baxter  looked  about  for  some  retirement  where  he  might  pur- 
sue his  studies,  and  especially  his  writings,  with  better  health  and 
more  tranquillity  than  he  could  hope  to  enjoy  in  the  city.  He  re- 
moved to  Acton,  six  miles  from  London,  July  14,  1663 ; — 
"  where,"  he  says,  "  I  followed  my  studies  privately,  in  quietness, 
and  went  every  Lord's-day  to  the  public  assembly,  when  there 
was  any  preaching  or  catechising,  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day 
with  my  family,  and  a  few  poor  neighbors  that  came  in ;  spending 
now  and  then  a  day  in  London.  The  next  year,  1664,  I  had  the 
company  of  divers  godly,  faithful  friends,  that  tabled  with  me  in 
summer,  with  whom  I  solaced  myself  with  much  content." 

"  March  26,  1665,  being  the  Lord's-day,  as  I  was  preaching  in 
a  private  house,  where  we  received  the  Lord's  supper,  a  bullet 
came  in  at  the  window  among  us,  passed  by  me,  and  narrowly  es- 
caped the  head  of  a  sister-in-law  of  mine  that  was  there,  but  hurt 
none  of  us.     We  could  never  discover  whence  it  came." 

In  these  days  of  persecution  and  peril,  the  correspondence  of 
Baxter  was  sought  by  distinguished  Protestant  divines  on  the 
continent,  and  among  others  by  the  celebrated  Amyrault,  then 
professor  of  divinity  at  Saumur,  and  the  leader  of  the  French  Prot- 
estants ; — "  But  I  knew  so  well,"  says  he,  "  what  eyes  were  upon 
me,  that  I  durst  not  write  one  letter  to  any  beyond  the  seas."  The 
vigilant  eye  of  malice,  which  some  had  upon  me,  made  me  under- 
stand that,  though  no  law  of  the  land  is  against  literate  persons' 
correspondencies  beyond  seas,  nor  have  any  divines  been  hindered 
from  it,  yet  it  was  like  to  have  proved  my  ruin  if  I  had  but  been 
known  to  answer  one  of  these  letters,  though  the  matter  had  been 
never  so  much  beyond  exception." 

Having  followed  him  to  his  retirement,  we  may  here  continue 
the  enumeration  of  his  publications  to  the  close  of  the  year  1665, 

*  Narrative,  Part  II.  pp.  435,  43G. 


184  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

with  which  date  he  concludes  the  second  part  of  the  Narrative  of 
his  Hfe.  Thirty-eight  separate  works  of  his,  it  will  be  recollected, 
were  published  before  the  restoration.* 

39.  "  A  Semion  of  Repentance,  preached  before  the  Honora- 
ble House  of  Commons,  &c.,  at  their  late  solemn  Fast  for  the  Set- 
tlement of  these  Nations."     4to.  published  in  1660. 

40.  "  Right  Rejoicing,  &ic.  A  Sennon  preached  at  St.  Paul's 
before  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  and  the  several  Companies 
of  the  City  of  London,  on  May  10th,  1660,  appointed  by  both 
Houses  of  Parliament  to  be  a  Day  of  solemn  Thanksgiving,  &,c." 
4to.  published  in  1660.  The  occasions  of  these  two  sermons  have 
already  been  described.! 

41.  "  The  Life  of  Faith ;  as  it  is  the  Evidence  of  Things  not 
seen ;  a  Sermon  preached  before  the  King,  July  22,  1660."  4to. 
published  in  1660.J 

42.  "  The  successive  Visibility  of  the  Church."  12mo.  publish- 
ed in  1660.  This  was  one  of  his  controversial  works  against  the 
Roman  Catholics. 

43.  "  The  Vain  Religion  of  the  Formal  Hypocrite,  and  the 
Mischief  of  an  unbridled  Tongue  as  against  Religion,  Rulers,  or 
Dissenters,  described  in  several  Sermons  preached  at  the  Abbey 
in  Westminster,  before  many  Members  of  the  Honorable  House  of 
Commons,  1660 :  And  the  Fool's  Prosperity  the  Occasion  of  his 
Destruction ;  a  Sermon  preached  at  Covent  Garden.  Both  pub- 
lished to  heal  the  Effects  of  some  Hearers'  Misunderstandings  and 
Misreports."  12mo.  published  in  Nov.  1660. <§> 

44.  "  The  Last  Work  of  a  Believer :  His  passing  Prayer,  recom- 
mending his  departing  Spirit  to  Christ,  to  be  received  by  him. 
Prepared  for  the  Funeral  of  Mary,  the  Widow,  first  of  Francis 
Charlton,  Esq.,  and  after  of  Thomas  Hanmer,  Esq."  &,c.  4to. 
published  in  January,  1661.  This  was  the  funeral  sermon  for  the 
mother  of  his  intended  wife. 

45.  After  the  Savoy  Conference,  "  somebody,"  he  says,  "  print- 
ed our  papers,  most  of  them,  given  in  to  them  in  that  treaty  ;  of 
which  the  petition  for  peace,  and  the  Reformed  Liturgy,  (except  a 
prayer  for  the  king,)  the  large  reply  to  their  answer  of  our  excep- 
tions, and  the  two  last  addresses,  were  my  writing."  This  was  in 
1661. 

46.  "  The  Mischiefs  of  Self-ignorance  and  the  Benefits  of  Self- 
acquaintance,  opened  in  divers  Sermons  at  Dunstan's  West,  and 
published  in  Answer  to  the  Accusations  of  some,  and  the  Desires  of 
others."  8vo.  published  in  1661 .     "  It  was  fitted,"  he  says,  "  to 


See  pp.  121,137.        t  See  p.  142.        J  See  pp.  143, 144.        §  See  p.  175. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  185 

the  disease  of  this  furious  age,  in  which  each  man  is  ready  to  de- 
vour others  because  they  do  not  know  themselves." 

47.  "  Baxter's  Account  to  the  Inhabitants  of  Kidderminster  of 
the  Reasons  of  his  being  forbid  to  preach  among  them."  4to.  pub- 
hshed  in  1663r 

48.  "A  Saint  or  a  Brute :  The  certain  Necessity  and  Excel- 
lency of  Holiness  so  plainly  proved,  and  urgently  applied,  as  by  the 
Blessing  of  God  may  convince  and  save  the  miserable,  impenitent, 
ungodly  Sensualists,  if  they  will  not  let  the  Devil  hinder  them 
from  a  sober  and  serious  reading  and  considering.  To  be  commu- 
nicated by  the  charitable,  that  desire  the  Conyersion  and  Salvation 
of  Souls,  while  the  Patience  of  God,  and  the  Day  of  Grace  and 
Hope  continue."  4to.  published  in  1662.  This  is  a  work  of  sev- 
eral hundred  pages. 

49.  "  Now  or  Never :  The  holy,  serious,  diligent  Believer,  justi- 
fied, encouraged,  excited,  and  directed;  and  the  Opposers  and 
Neglecters  convinced,  by  the  Light  of  Scripture  and  Reason." 
Published  in  1663. 

50.  "  Fair  Warning  ;  or  Twenty-five  Reasons  against  the  Tole- 
ration of  Popery."  8vo.  published  in  1663.  There  seems  to  be 
some  doubt  whether  this  pamphlet  ought  to  be  numbered  among 
the  writings  of  Baxter. 

51.  "The,  Divine  Life,  in  three  Treatises  ;  the  first  of  the  Knowl- 
edge of  God ;  the  second  of  walking  with  God  ;  the  third  of  con- 
versing with  God  in  Solitude."  4to.  published  in  1664.  Thj^ 
work  was  occasioned  by  a  request  of  the  countess  of  Balcarras. 
She  was  about  returning  to  Scotland,  after  a  residence  of  some  time 
in  England,  and,  having  been  much  profited  by  Baxter's  writings 
and  by  his  preaching,  desired  him  to  preach  the  last  sermon  which 
she  was  to  hear  from  him,  on  these  words  of  Christ,  '  Behold  the 
hour  cometh,  yea,  is  now  come,  that  ye  shall  be  scattered  every 
man  to  his  own,  and  shall  leave  me  alone  ;  and  yet  I  am  not  alone ; 
because  the  Father  is  with  me.'  The  sermon  thus  preached  is  the 
third  part  of  the  work ;  he  says  he  prefixed  the  other  two  treatises 
to  make  it  more  considerable.  He  apologizes  for  the  work,  in  his 
Life,  by  saying  that  it  was  "  but  popular  semions,  preached  in  the 
midst  of  diverting  business,  accusations,  and  malicious  clamors." 

How  much  freedom  of  the  press  the  nonconformists  enjoyed  ap- 
pears from  an  incident  which  he  records  respecting  this  book. 
"  When  I  offered  it  to  the  press,  I  was  fain  to  leave  out  the  quanti- 
ty of  one  sermon  in  the  end  of  the  second  treatise,  (that  God  took 
Enoch,)  wherein  1  showed  what  a  mercy  it  is  to  one  that  walked 
with  God,  to  be  taken  to  him  from  this  world ;  because  it  is  a  dark, 
wicked,  malicious,  incapable,  treacherous,deceitful  world,  &tc.  All 
VOL.  1.  24 


186  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

which,  the  bishop's  chaplain  must  have  expunged,  because  men 
would  think  it  was  all  spoken  of  them.  And  so  the  world  hath 
got  a  protection  against  the  force  of  our  baptismal  vow." 

52.  In  1665  he  published  only  three  single  sheets;  two,  design- 
ed "  for  the  use  of  poor  families,  that  cannot  buy  greater  books, 
or  will  not  read  them  ;"  and  the  third  published  at  the  time  of  the 
plague,  entided,  "  Directions  for  the  Sick." 

Among  his  earliest  employments  at  Acton  must  have  been  the 
preparation  of  his  Narrative  of  his  own  life,  the  first  part  of  which 
was  written  mostly  in  1664,  and  the  second  part  in  1665.  At  the 
conclusion  of  the  seqpnd  part  of  this  Narrative,  he  writes  thus, — 

"  And  now,  after  all  the  breaches  on  the  churches,  the  ejection 
of  the  ministers,  and  impenitency  under  all,  wars  and  plague  and 
danger  of  famine  began  at  once  on  us.  War  with  the  Hollanders, 
which  yet  continueth  ;  and  the  dryest  winter,  spring,  and  summer, 
that  ever  man  alive  knew,  or  our  forefathers  mention  of  late  ages  ; 
so  that  the  grounds  were  burnt  like  the  highways,  where  the  cattle 
should  have  fed.  The  meadow  grounds  where  I  lived  bare  but 
four  loads  of  hay,  which  before  bare  forty.  The  plague  hath 
seized  on  the  famousest  and  most  excellent  city  of  Christendom, 
and  at  this  time  nearly  8,300  die  of  all  diseases  in  a  week.  It 
hath  scattered  and  consumed  the  inhabitants  ;  multitudes  being 
dead  and  fled.  The  calamities  and  cries  of  the  diseased  and  im- 
poverished, are  not  to  be  conceived  by  those  that  are  absent  from 
^Jiem.  Every  man  is  a  terror  to  his  neighbor  and  himself;  and 
God,  for  our  sins,  is  a  terror  to  us  all.  O  !  how  is  London,  the 
place  which  God  hath  honored  with  his  gospel  above  all  places  of 
the  earth,  laid  low  in  horrors,  and  wasted  almost  to  desolation  by 
the  wrath  of  that  God,  whom  England  hath  contemned !  A  God- 
hating  generation  are  consumed  in  their  sins,  and  the  righteous  are 
also  taken  away  as  from  greater  evils  yet  to  come."  "  Yet,  under 
all  these  desolations,  the  wicked  are  hardened,  and  cast  all  on  the 
fanatics;  the  true  dividing  fanatics  and  sectaries  are  not  yet  hum- 
bled for  former  miscarriages,  but  cast  all  on  the  prelates  and  im- 
posers ;  and  the  ignorant  vulgar  are  stupid,  and  know  not  what  use 
to  make  of  any  thing  they  feel.  But  thousands  of  the  sober,  pru- 
dent, faithful  servants  of  the  Lord  are  mourning  in  secret,  and  wait- 
ing for  his  salvation ;  in  humility  and  hope  they  are  staying  them- 
selves on  God,  and  expecting  what  he  will  do  with  them.  From 
London  the  plague  is  spread  through  many  counties,  especially 
next  London,  where  few  places,  especially  corporations,  are  free ; 
ivJiich  makes  me  oft  groan,  and  wish  that  London,  and  all  the  cor- 
porations of  England,  would  review  the  Corporation  Act,  and 
their  own  acts,  and  speedily  repent. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  187 

"  Leaving  most  of  my  family  at  Acton,  compassed  about  with 
the  plague,  at  the  writing  of  this,  through  the  mercy  of  my  dear 
God,  and  Father  in  Christ,  I  am  hitherto  in  safety  and  comfort  in 
the  house  of  my  dearly  beloved  and  honored  friend,  Mr.  Richard 
Hampden,  of  Hampden,  in  Buckinghamshire,  the  true  heir  of  his 
famous  father's  sincerity,  piety,  and  devotedness  to  God  ;  whose 
person  and  family  the  Lord  preserve ;  honor  them  that  honor  him, 
and  be  their  everlasting  rest  and  portion. 

"Hampden,  September  28,  1665."* 


*  Narrative,  Part  II.  p.  448. 


PART  FIFTH. 


rnOM  THE  YEAR  1665  TO  HIS  DEATH. 


The  reader  has  now  traced  the  series  of  events  in  the  life  of 
Richard  Baxter  to  the  fiftieth  year  of  his  age.  We  have  seen  him 
approving  himself  the  man  of  God  in  the  camp  and  in  the  court,  in 
the  rural  parish  and  in  the  great  metropolis ;  we  are  now  to  see  hira 
in  the  decline  of  life,  like  the  illustrious  poet,  his  cotemporary, 
'' unchanged," 

"  On  evil  days  thoTigh  fall'n  and  evil  tongues, 
In  darkness  and  with  dangers  compassed  round." 

At  this  period  in  his  history,  it  is  a  privilege  to  have  before  us  his 
own  deliberate  review  of  the  changes  which  had  been  wrought 
upon  his  mind  and  heart,  in  his  progress  from  youth  to  the  com- 
mencement of  his  declining  years.  This  review  is  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  first  part  of  his  personal  Narrative,  and  was  written  in 
1664,  thfe  forty-ninth  year  of  his  age.  It  is  presented  here  much 
abridged. 

"  Because  it  is  soul-experiments  which  those  who  urge  me  to 
this  kind  of  writing  do  expect  that  I  should,  especially,  communi- 
cate to  others,  and  I  have  said  little  of  God's  dealings  with  my 
soul  since  the  time  of  my  younger  years,  I  shall  only  give  the  read- 
er so  much  satisfaction  as  to  acquaint  him  truly  what  change  God 
hath  made  upon  my  mind  and  heart  since  those  unriper  times,  and 
wherein  I  now  differ  in  judgment  and  disposition  from  myself.  And 
for  any  more  particular  account  of  heart  occurrences,  and  God's 
operations  on  me,  I  think  it  somewhat  unsavory  to  recite  them, 
seeing  God's  dealings  are  much  the  same  with  all  his  servants  in 
the  main,  and  the  points  wherein  he  varieth  are  usually  so  small, 
that  I  think  such  not  fit  to  be  repeated.  Nor  have  I  any  thing  ex- 
traordinary to  glory  in,  which  is  not  common  to  my  brethren, 
who  have  the  same  spirit,  and  are  servants  of  the  same  Lord.  And 
the  true  reason  why  1  do  adventure  so  far  upon  the  censure  of  the 
world  as  to  tell  them  wherein  the  case  is  altered  with  me,  is,  that  I 
may  take  off  young  unexperienced  Christians  from  over  confidence 
in  their  first  apprehensions,  or  overvaluing  their  first  degrees  of  grace, 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  189 

or  too  much  applauding  and  following  unfurnished,  unexperienced 
men ;  and  that  they  may  he  directed  what  mind  and  course  of  life 
to  prefer,  by  the  judgment  of  one  that  hath  tried  both  before  them. 

'- 1.  The  temper  of  my  mind  hath  somewhat  altered  with  the 
temper  of  my  body.  When  I  was  young,  I  was  more  vigorous, 
affectionate,  and  fervent,  in  preaching,  conference,  and  prayer,  than, 
ordinarily,  I  can  be  now.  My  style  was  more  extemporate  and 
lax,  but,  by  the  advantage  of  warmth,  and  a  very  familiar  moving 
voice  and  utterance,  my  preaching  then  did  more  affect  the  audi- 
tory, than  many  of  the  last  years  before  I  gave  over  preaching. 
But  what  I  delivered  then  was  much  more  raw,  and  had  more 
passages  that  would  not  bear  the  trial  of  accurate  judgments  ;  and  my 
discourses  had  both  less  substance  and  less  judgment  than  of  late. 

"  2.  My  understanding  was  then  quicker,  and  could  more  easily 
manage  any  thing  that  was  newly  presented  to  it  upon  a  sudden ; 
but  it  is  since  better  fiumished,  and  acquainted  with  the  way;;  of 
truth  and  error,  and  with  a  multitude  of  particular  mistakes  of  the 
world,  which  then  I  was  the  more  in  danger  of,  because  I  had  only 
the  faculty  of  knowing  them,  but  did  not  actually  know  them.  I 
was  then  like  a  man  of  quick  understanding,  that  was  to  travel  a 
way  which  he  never  went  before,  or  to  cast  up  an  account  which 
he  never  labored  in  before,  or  to  play  on  an  instrument  of  music 
which  he  never  saw  before.  I  am  now  like  one  of  somev/hat  a 
slower  understanding,  who  is  traveling  a  way  which  he  hath  often 
gone,  and  is  casting  up  an  account  which  he  hath  often  cast  up,  and 
hath  ready  at  hand,  and  tliat  is  playing  on  an  instrument  which 
he  hath  frequently  used ;  so  that  I  can  very  confidently  say  my 
judgment  is  much  sounder  and  firmer  now  than  it  was  then.  When  I 
peruse  the  writings  which  I  wrote  in  my  younger  years,  I  can  find 
the  footsteps  of  my  unfurnished  mind,  and  of  my  emptiness  and 
insufficiency;  so  that  the  man  that  followed  my  judgment  then,  was 
liker  to  have  been  misled  by  me  than  he  that  should  follow  it  now. 

",And  yet,  that  I  may  not  say  worse  than  it  deserveth  of  my 
former  measure  of  understanding,  I  shall  truly  tell  you  what  change 
I  find  now  in  the  perusal  of  my  own  writings.  Those  points  which 
then  I  thoroughly  studied,  my  judgment  is  the  same  of  now  as  it 
was  then,  and  therefore  in  the  substance  of  my  religion,  and  in 
those  controversies  which  I  then  searched  into  with  some  extraor- 
dinary diligence,  I  find  not  my  mind  disposed  to  a  change  ;  but  in 
divers  points  that  I  studied  slightly,  and  by  the  halves,  and  in  many 
things  which  1  took  upon  trust  from  others,  I  have  found  since,  that 
my  apprehensions  were  either  erroneous  or  very  lame."  "And 
this  token  of  my  weakness  accompanied  those  my  younger  studies, 
that  I  was  very  apt  to  start  up  controversies  in  the  way  of  my 
practical  writings,  and  also  more  desirous  to  acquaint  the  world  with 


190  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

all  that  I  took  to  be  the  truth,  and  to  assault  those  books  by  name, 
which  I  thoui^rht  did  tend  to  deceive  them,  and  did  contain  unsound' 
and  dangerous  doctrine  ;  and  the  reason  of  all  this  was,  that  I  was 
then  in  the  vigor  of  my  youthful  apprehensions ;  and  at  the  new 
appearance  of  any  sacred  truth,  it  was  more  apt  to  affect  me  and 
be  highlier  valued  than  afterwards,  when  commonness  had  dulled 
my  delight;  and  I  did  not  sufficiently  discern  then  how  much,  in 
most  of  our  controversies,  is  verbal,  and  upon  mutual  mistakes. 
And,  withal,  I  knew  not  how  impatient  divines  were  of  being  con- 
tradicted, nor  how  it  would  stir  up  all  their  powers  to  defend  what 
they  have  once  said,  and  to  rise  up  against  the  truth,  which  is  thus 
thrust  upon  them,  as  the  mortal  enemy  of  their  honor ;  and  I  knew 
not  how  hardly  men's  minds  are  changed  from  their  former  appre- 
hensions, be  the  evidence  never  so  plain." 

"  3.  In  my  youth,  I  was  quickly  past  my  fundamentals,  and  was 
running  up  into  a  multitude  of  controversies,  and  greatly  delighted 
with  metaphysical  and  scholastic  writings,  (though  I  must  needs 
say,  my  preaching  was  still  on  the  necessary  points  ;)  but  the  elder 
I  grew,  the  smaller  stress  I  laid  upon  these  controversies  and  curi- 
osities, though  still  my  intellect  abhorreth  confusion.  And  now  it 
is  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  the  catechism,  which  I  highliest 
value,  and  daily  think  of,  and  find  most  useful  to  myself  and  others. 
The  creed,  the  Lord's  prayer,  and  the  ten  commandments,  do  find 
me  now  the  most  acceptable  and  plentiful  matter  for  all  my  medi- 
tations. They  are  to  me  as  my  daily  bread  and  drink.  And  as  I 
can  speak  and  write  of  them  over  and  over  again,  so  I  had  rather 
read  or  hear  of  them  than  of  any  of  the  school  niceties  which  once 
so  much  pleased  me.  And  thus  I  observed  it  was  with  old  Bishop 
Usher,  and  with  many  other  men." 

"  As  the  stock  of  the  tree  afFordeth  timber  to  build  houses  and 
cities,  when  the  small  though  higher  multifarious  branches  are  but 
to  make  a  crow's  nest  or  a  blaze,  so  the  knovtledge  of  God  and 
of  Jesus  Christ,  of  heaven  and  holiness,  doth  build  up  the  sojjI  to 
endless  blessedness,  and  affbrdeth  it  solid  peace  and  comfort ;  when 
a  multitude  of  school  niceties  serve  but  for  vain  janglings  and  hurt- 
ful diversions  and  contentions.  .And  yet  I  would  not  dissuade  my 
reader  from  the  perusal  of  Aquinas,  Scotus,  Ockham,  Arminiensis, 
Durandus,  or  any  such  writer ;  for  much  good  may  be  gotten  from 
them  ;  but  I  would  persuade  him  to  study  and  live  upon  the  essen- 
tial doctrines  of  Christianity  and  godliness,  incomparably  above 
them  all.  And  that  he  may  know  that  my  testimony  is  somewhat 
regardable,  I  presume  to  say  that  in  this,  I  as  much  gainsay  my 
natural  inclination  to  subtilty  and  accurateness  in  knowing,  as  he  is 
like  to  do  by  his  if  he  obey  my  counsel." 

"  4.  This  is  another  thing  which  I  am  changed  in,  that  whereas, 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  191 

in  my  younger  days,  I  never  was  tempted  to  doubt  of  the  truth 
of  Scripture  or  Christianity,  but  all  my  doubts  and  fears  were 
exercised  at  home,*  about  my  own  sincerity  and  interest  in  Christ, 
and  this  was  it  which  I  called  unbelief;  since  then,  my  sorest 
assaults  have  been  on  the  other  side  ;  and  such  they  were,  that,  had 
I  been  void  of  internal  experience  and  the  adliesion  of  love,  and 
the  special  help  of  God,  and  had  not  discerned  more  reason  for 
my  religion  than  I  did  when  I  was  younger,  I  had  certainly  apos- 
tatized to  infidelity.  I  am  now,  therefore,  much  more  apprehen- 
sive than  heretofore  of  the  necessity  of  well  grounding  men  in  their 
religion,  and  especially  of  the  witness  of  the  indwelling  Spirit." 
''  For  my  part,  I  must  profess  that,  when  my  belief  of  things 
eternal  and  of  the  Scripture  is  most  clear  and  firm,  all  goeth  ac- 
cordingly in  my  soul,  and  all  temptations  to  sinful  compliances, 
worldliness,  or  flesh-pleasing,  do  signify  worse  to  me  than  an  invi- 
tation to  the  stocks  or  Bedlam.  And  no  petition  seemeth  more 
necessary  to  me  than, — Lord,  increase  our  faith ;  I  believe,  help 
thou  my  unbelief. 

"  5.  Among  truths  certain  in  themselves,  all  are  not  equally 
certain  to  me ;  and  even  of  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel  I  must 
needs  say,  with  Mr.  Richard  Hooker,  that,  whatever  men  may 
pretend,  the  subjective  certainty  cannot  go  beyond  the  objective 
evidence  ;  for  it  is  caused  thereby  as  the  print  on  the  wax  is  caused 
by  that  on  the  seal.  Therefore  I  do,  more  of  late  than  ever,  dis- 
cern a  necessity  of  a  methodical  procedure  in  maintaining  the  doc- 
trine of  Christianity,  and  of  beginning  at  natural  verities  as  pre- 
supposed fundamentally  to  supernatural  truths  ;  though  God  may, 
Avhen  he  please,  reveal  all  at  once,  and  even  natural  truths  by 
supernatural  revelation.  And  it  is  a  marvelous  great  help  to  my 
fliith,  to  find  it  built  on  so  sure  foundations,  and  so  consonant  to  the 
law  of  nature." 

"6.  In  my  younger  years,  my  trouble  for  sin  was  most  about 
my  actual  failings ;  lout  now  I  am  much  more  troubled  for  inward 
defects,  and  omission,  or  want  of  the  vital  duties  or  graces  in  the 
soul."  "  Had  I  all  the  riches  of  the  world,  how  gladly  would  I 
give  them  for  a  fuller  knowledge,  behef,  and  love,  of  God  and 
everlasting  glory !  These  wants  are  the  greatest  burden  of  my 
life,  which  oft  maketh  my  life  itself  a  burden.  I  cannot  find  any 
hope  of  reaching  so  high  in  these,  while  1  am  in  the  flesh,  as  I 
once  hoped  before  this  time  to  have  attained ;  which  maketh  me 
the  wearier  of  this  sinful  world,  that  is  honored  with  so  little  of 
the  knowledge  of  God. 

'  "7.  Heretofore,  I  placed  much  of  my  religion  in  tenderness  of 
heart,  and  grieving  for  sin,  and  penitential  tears ;  and  less  of  it  in 
the  love  of  God,  and  studying  his  love  and  goodness,  and  in  his 


192  LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

joyful  praises  -than  now  I  do.  Then  I  was  little  sensible  of  the 
greatness  and  excellency  of  love  and  praise ;  though  I  coldly  spake 
the  same  words  in  its  commendations  as  now  I  de.  Now,  1  am  less 
troubled  for  want  of  grief  and  tears ;  though  I  more  value  humility, 
and  refuse  not  needful  humiliation.  But  my  conscience  now 
looketh  at  love  and  delight  in  God,  and  praising  him  as  the  top 
of  all  my  religious  duties ;  for  which  it  is  that  I  value  and  use 
the  rest. 

"  8.  My  judgment  is  much  more  for  frequent  and  serious  medi- 
tation on  the  heavenly  blessedness  than  it  was  in  my  younger  days. 
I  then  thought  that  a  sermon  of  the  attributes  of  God,  and  the  joys 
of  heaven,  was  not  the  most  excellent ;  and  was  wont  to  say^ 
'  Every  body  knoweth  that  God  is  great  and  good,  and  that  heaven 
is  a  blessed  place  ;  I  had  rather  hear  how  I  may  attain  it.'  And 
nothing  pleased  me  so  well  as  the  doctrine  of  regeneration  and  the 
marks  of  sincerity,  which  was  because  it  was  suitable  to  me  in  that 
state  ;  but  now  I  had  rather  read,  hear,  or  meditate  on  God  and 
heaven,  than  on  any  other  subject ;  for  I  perceive  that  it  is  the 
object  which  altereth  and  elevateth  the  mind,  which  will  resemble 
that  which  it  most  frequently  feedeth  on ;  and  that  it  is  not  only 
useful  to  our  comfort,  to  be  much  in  heaven  in  our  believing 
thoughts,  but  that  it  must  animate  all  our  other  duties,  and  fortify 
us  against  every  temptation  and  sin ;  and  that  the  love  of  the  end 
is  the  poise  or  spring  which  setteth  every  wheel  agoing,  and  must 
put  us  on  to  all  the  means. 

"  9.  I  was  once  wont  to  meditate  most  on  ray  own  heart,  and 
to  dwell  all  at  home,  and  look  little  higher.  I  was  still  poring 
either  on  my  sins  or  wants,  or  examining  my  sincerity  ;  but  now, 
though  I  am  greatly  convinced  of  the  need  of  heart  acquaintance 
and  employment,  yet  I  see  more  need  of  a  higher  work,  aad  that 
I  should  look  often  upon  Christ,  and  God,  and  heaven.  At  home, 
I  can  find  distempers  to  trouble  me,  and  some  evidences  of  my 
peace ;  but  it  is  above  that  I  must  find  matter  of  delight  and  joy, 
and  love,  and  peace  itself.  Therefore  I  would  have  one  thought 
at  home  upon  myself  and  sins,  and  many  thoughts  above  upon  the 
high  and  amiable  and  beatifying  objects. 

"  10.  Heretofore  I  knew  much  less  than  now,  and  yet  was  not 
half  so  much  acquainted  with  my  ignorance ;  I  had  a  great  delight 
in  the  daily,  new  discoveries  which  I  made,  and  of  the  light  which 
shined  in  upon  me,  like  a  man  that  cometh  into  a  country  where  he 
never  was  before ;  but  I  little  knew  either  how  imperfectly  I  un- 
derstood those  very  points  whose  discovery  so  much  delighted  me, 
or  how  much  might  be  said  against  them,  or  how  many  things  "I 
was  yet  a  stranger  to.  But  now  I  find  far  greater  darkness  upon 
all  things,  and  perceive  how  very  little  it  is  that  we  know  in  com- 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  193 

parison  of  that  which  we  are  ignorant  of;  and  I  have  far  meaner 
thoughts  of  my  own  understanding,  though  I  must  needs  know 
that  it  is  better  furnished  than  it  was  then. 

"11.  Accordingly  I  had  then  a  far  higher  opinion  of  learned 
persons  and  books  than  I  now  have ;  for  what  I  wanted  myself,  I 
thought  every  reverend  divine  had  attained,  and  was  familiarly  ac- 
quainted with.  And  what  books  I  understood  not,  by  reason  of 
the  strangeness  of  the  terms  or  matter,  I  the  more  admired,  and 
thought  that  others  understood  their  worth.  But  now  experience 
hath  constrained  me  against  my  will  to  know,  that  reverend  learned 
men  are  imperfect,  and  know  but  little  as  well  as  I,  especially  those 
that  think  themselves  the  wisest.  And  the  more  I  am  acquainted 
with  holy  men  that  are  all  for  heaven,  and  pretend  not  much  to 
subtilties,  the  more  I  value  and  honor  them." 

"  12.  And  at  first  I  took  more  upon  my  author's  credit  than  now 
I  can  do :  and  when  an  author  was  highly  commended  to  me  by 
others,  or  pleased  me  in  some  part,  I  was  ready  to  entertain  the 
whole  ;  whereas  now  I  take  and  leave  in  the  same  author,  and 
dissent  in  some  things  from  him  that  I  like  best,  as  well  as  from 
others. 

"  13.  At  first,  I  was  greatly  inclined  to  go  with  the  highest  in 
controversies  on  one  side  or  other ;  as  with  Dr.  Twisse  and  Mr. 
Rutherford,  and  Spanhemius  de  Providentia  et  Gratia,  he.  But 
now  I  can  so  easily  see  what  to  say  against  both  extremes,  that  I 
am  much  more  inclinable  to  reconciling  principles. 

"  14.  At  first,  the  style  of  authors  took  as  much  with  me  as  the 
argument,  and  made  the  arguments  seem  more  forcible  ;  but  now  I 
judge  not  of  truth  at  all  by  any  such  ornaments  or  accidents,  but 
by  its  naked  evidence. 

"15.  I  now  see  more  good  and  more  evil  in  all  men,  than  here- 
tofore I  did.  I  see  that  good  men  are  not  so  good  as  I  once  thought 
they  were,  but  have  more  imperfections ;  and  that  nearer  approach 
and  fuller  trial  do  make  the  best  appear  more  weak  and  faulty 
than  their  admirers  at  a  distance  think.  And  I  find  that  few  are 
so  bad  as  either  malicious  enemies,  or  censorious  separating  pro- 
fessors, do  imagine." 

"  16.  I  less  admire  gifts  of  utterance  and  the  bai-e  profession  of 
religion  than  I  once  did ;  and  have  much  more  charity  for  many, 
who,  by  the  want  of  gifts,  do  make  an  obscm-er  profession."  "  Ex- 
perience hath  opened  to  me  what  odious  crimes  may  consist  with 
high  profession ;  and  I  have  met  with  divers  obscure  persons,  not 
indeed  noted  for  any  extraordinary  profession  or  forwardness  in 
religion,  but  only  to  live  a  quiet,  blameless  life,  whom  1  have  after 
found  to  have  long  lived,  as  far  as  I  could  discern,  a  truly  godly 
and  sanctified  life;  only  their  prayers  and  duties  were,  by  accident, 
VOL.  I.  25 


194  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

kept  secret  from  other  men's  observation.  Yet  he  that,  upon  this 
pretense,  would  confound  the  godly  and  the  ungodly,  may  as  well 
go  about  to  lay  heaven  and  bell  together. 

"17.  I  am  not  so  narrow  in  my  special  love  as  heretofore :  be- 
ing less  censorious,  and  taking  more  than  I  did  for  saints,  it  must 
needs  follow  that  I  love  more  as  saints  than  I  did  formerly." 

"  18.  I  am  not  so  narrow  in  my  principles  of  church  communion 
as  once  I  was."  "  I  am  not  for  narrowing  the  church  more  than 
Christ  himself  alloweth  us  ;  nor  for  robbing  him  of  any  of  his  flock." 

'•  19.  Yet  1  am  more  apprehensive  than  ever  of  the  great  use 
and  need  of  ecclesiastical  discipline." 

"  20.  I  am  much  more  sensible  of  the  evil  of  schism,  and  of  the 
separating  humor,  and  of  gathering  parties  and  making  several 
sects  in  the  church,  than  I  was  heretofore.  For  the  effects  have 
showed  us  more  of  the  mischiefs. 

''21.  T  am  much  more  sensible  how  prone  many  young  profes- 
sors are  to  spiritual  pride,  and  self-conceitedness,  and  unruliness, 
and  division,  and  so  to  prove  the  grief  of  their  teachers,  and  fire- 
brands in  the  church  ;  and  how  much  of  a  minister's  work  lieth  in 
preventing  this,  and  humbling  and  confirming  such  young,  inexpe- 
rienced professors,  and  keeping  them  in  order  in  their  progress  in 
religion. 

"  22.  Yet  I  am  more  sensible  of  the  sin  and  mischief  of  using 
men  cruelly  in  matters  of  religion,  and  of  pretending  men's  good 
and  the  order  of  the  church,  for  acts  of  inhumanity  or  uncharita- 
bleness.  Such  men  know  not  their  own  infirmity,  nor  yet  the 
nature  of  pastoral  government,  which  ought  to  be  paternal  and  by 
love ;  nor  do  they  know  the  way  to  win  a  soul,  nor  to  maintain  the 
church's  peace. 

"  23.  My  soul  is  much  more  afflicted  with  the  thoughts  of  this 
miserable  world,  and  more  drawn  out  in  desire  of  its  conversion, 
than  heretofore.  I  was  wont  to  look  but  little  further  than  England 
in  my  prayers,  not  considering  the  state  of  the  rest  of  the  world ; 
or  if  I  prayed  for  the  conversion  of  the  Jews,  that  was  almost  all. 
But  now,  as  I  better  understand  the  case  of  the  world,  and  the 
method  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  that 
lieth  so  heavy  upon  my  heart,  as  the  thought  of  the  miserable 
nations  of  the  earth.  It  is  the  most  astonishing  part  of  all  God's 
providence  to  me,  that  he  so  far  forsaketh  almost  all  the  world,  and 
confirreth  his  special  favor  to  so  few ;  that  so  small  a  part  of  the 
world  hath  the  profession  of  Christianity,  in  comparison  of  heathens, 
Mahometans,  and  other  infidels ;  that  among  professed  Christians 
there  are  so  few  that  are  saved  from  gross  delusions,  and  have  any 
competent  knowledge ;  and  that  among  those  there  are  so  few  that 
are  seriously  religious,  and  who  truly  set  their  hearts  on  heaven. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTKR.  195 

I  cannot  be  afFeeled  so  much  with  the  cahunities  ot  iny  own  relations, 
or  the  land  of  my  nativity,  as  with  Ine  case  of  the  heathen,  Mahom- 
etan, and  ignorant  nations  of  the  earth.  No  part  of  my  prayers 
are  so  deeply  serious  as  that  for  the  conversion  of  the  infidel  and 
ungodly  world,  that  God's  name  may  be  sanctified,  and  his  kingdom 
come,  and  his  will  be  done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  Nor  was  I 
ever  before  so  sensible  what  a  plague  the  division  of  languages  is, 
which  hindereth  our  speaking  to  them  for  their  conversion ;  nor 
what  a  great  sin  tyranny  is,  which  keepeth  out  the  gospel  from 
most  of  the  nations  of  the  world.  Could  we  but  go  among  Tartars, 
Turks,  and  heathens,  and  speak  their  language,  I  should  be  but 
little  troubled  for  the  silencing  of  eighteen  hundred  ministers  at  once, 
in  England,  nor  for  all  the  rest  that  were  cast  out  here,  and  in 
Scotland,  and  in  Ireland ;  there  being  no  employment  in  the  world 
so  desirable  in  my  eyes  as  to  laboi-  for  the  winning  of  such  miserable 
souls ;  which  maketh  me  greatly  honor  Mr.  John  EUiot,  the  apostle 
of  the  Indians  in  New  England,  and  whoever  else  have  labored  in 
such  work. 

"24.  Yet  am  I  not  so  much  inclined  to  pass  a  peremptory  sen- 
tence of  damnation  upon  all  that  never  heard  of  Christ ;  having 
some  more  reason  than  I  knew  of  before,  to  think  that  God's  dealing 
with  such  is  unknown  to  us  ;  and  that  the  ungodly  here  among  us 
Christians  are  in  a  far  worse  case  than  they. 

"  25.  My  censures  of  the  Papists  do  much  differ  from  what  they 
were  at  first.  I  then  thought  that  their  errors  in  the  doctrine  of 
faith  were  their  most  dangerous  mistakes."  "  But  the  great  and 
irreconcilable  differences  lie  in  their  church  tyranny  and  usurpations, 
and  in  their  great  corruptions  of  God's  worship,  together  with  their 
befriending  of  ignorance  and  vice." 

"  26.  I  am  deeplier  afflicted  for  the  disagreements  of  Christians 
than  I  was  when  I  was  a  younger  Christian.  Except  the  case  of 
the  infidel  world,  nothing  is  so  bad  and  grievous  to  my  thoughts  as 
the  case  of  the  divided  churches." 

"  27.  I  have  spent  much  of  my  studies  about  the  terms  of  Chris- 
tian concord,  etc." 

"  28.  I  am  farther  than  ever  I  was  from  expecting  great  mattei's 
of  unity,  splendor,  or  prosperity,  to  the  church  on  earth,  or  that 
saints  should  dream  of  a  kingdom  of  this  world,  or  flatter  themselves 
with  the  hope  of  a  golden  age,  or  reigning  over  the  ungodly,  till 
there  be  a  new  heavens,  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  righteous- 
ness. On  the  contrary,  I  am  more  apprehensive  that  suffering 
must  be  the  church's  most  ordinary  lot ;  and  indeed  Christians  must 
be  sell-denying  cross-bearers,  even  where  there  are  none  but  formal, 
nominal  Christians  to  be  the  cross-makers;  and  though,  ordinarily, 
God  would  have  vicissitudes  of  summer  and  winter,  day  and  night, 


196  LIFE    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

that  the  church  may  grow  extensively  in  the  summer  of  prosperity, 
and  intensively  and  radically  in  the  winter  of  adversity ;  yet,  usu- 
ally, their  night  is  longer  than  their  day,  and  that  day  itself  hath  its 
storms  and  tempests." 

"  29.  I  do  not  lay  so  great  a  stress  upon  the  external  modes  and 
forms  of  worship,  as  many  young  professors  do."  "  I  cannot  be 
of  their  opinion,  that  think  God  will  not  accept  him  that  prayeth 
by  the  common  prayer  book  ;  and  that  such  forms  are  a  self-invent- 
ed worship,  which  God  rejecteth  ;  nor  can  I  be  of  their  mind  that 
say  the  like  of  extemporary  prayers. 

"  30.  I  am  much  less  regardful  of  the  approbation  of  man,  and 
set  much  lighter  by  contempt  or  applause,  than  I  did  long  ago.  I 
am  oft  suspicious  that  this  is  not  only  from  the  increase  of  self-de- 
nial and  humility,  but  partly  from  my  being  glutted  and  surfeited 
with  human  applause.  All  worldly  things  appear  most  vain  and 
unsatisfactory  when  we  have  tried  them  most.  But  though  I  feel 
that  this  hath  some  hand  in  the  effect,  yet,  as  far  as  I  can  perceive, 
the  knowledge  of  man's  nothingness,  and  God's  transcendent  great- 
ness, with  whom  it  is  that  I  have  most  to  do,  and  the  sense  of  the 
brevity  of  human  things,  and  the  nearness  of  eternity,  are  the  prin- 
cipal causes  of  this  effect ;  which  some  have  imputed  to  self-con- 
ceitedness  and  morosity. 

"•31.  I  am  more  and  more  pleased  with  a  solitary  life;  and 
though,  in  a  way  of  self-denial,  I  could  submit  to  the  most  public 
life  for  the  service  of  God,  when  he  requireth  it,  and  would  not  be 
unprofitable,  that  I  might  be  private ;  yet  I  confess  it  is  much  more 
pleasing  to  myself  to  be  retired  from  the  world,  and  to  have  very 
little  to  do  with  men,  and  to  converse  with  God,  and  conscience, 
and  good  books. 

"  32.  Though  I  was  never  much  tempted  to  the  sin  of  covet- 
ousness,  yet  my  fear  of  dying  was  wont  to  tell  me  that  I  was  not 
sufficiently  loosened  from  this  world ;  but  1  find  that  it  is  compara- 
tively veiy  easy  to  me  to  be  loose  from  this  world,  but  hard  to  live 
by  faith  above.  To  despise  earth,  is  easy  to  me  ;  but  not  so  easy 
to  be  acquainted  and  conversant  with  heaven.  I  have  nothing  in 
this  world  which  I  could  not  easily  let  go ;  but  to  get  satisfying 
apprehensions  of  the  other  world  is  the  great  and  grievous  dif- 
ficulty. • 

"  33.  I  am  much  more  apprehensive  than  long  ago  of  the  odi- 
ousness  and  danger  of  the  sin  of  pride.  Scarcely  any  sin  appear- 
eth  more  odious  to  me."  "  I  think  so  far  as  any  man  is  proud,  he 
is  kin  to  the  devil,  and  utterly  a  stranger  to  God  and  to  himself.  It 
is  a  wonder  that  it  should  be  a  possible  sin  to  men  that  still  carry 
about  with  them,  in  soul  and  body,  such  humbling  matter  of  remedy 
as  we  all  do. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  107 

"34.  1  more  than  ever  lament  the  unhappiness  of  the  nobility, 
gentry,  and  great  ones  of  the  world,  who  live  in  such  temptations 
to  sensuality,  curiosity,  and  wasting  of  their  time  about  a  multitude 
of  little  things." 

"  35.  I  am  much  more  sensible  than  heretofore,  of  the  breadth, 
and  length,  and  depth,  of  the  radical,  universal,  odious  sin  of  self- 
ishness, and  therefore  have  wi-itten  so  much  against  it;  and  of  the 
excellency  and  necessity  of  self-denial,  and  of  a  public  mind,  and  of 
loving  our  neighbor  as  ourselves. 

"36.  I  am  more  and  more  sensible  that  most  controversies  have 
more  need  of  right  stating  than  of  debating ;  and  if  my  skill  be  in- 
creased in  any  thing,  it  is  in  that,  in  narrowing  controversies  by  ex- 
plication, and  separating  the  real  from  the  verbal,  and  proving  to 
many  contenders  that  they  differ  less  than  they  think  they  do. 

"37.  I  am  more  solicitous  than  I  have  been  about  my  duty  to 
God,  and  less  solicitous  about  his  dealings  with  me." 

"38.  Though  my  works  were  never  such  as  could  be  any  temp- 
tation to  me  to  dream  of  obliging  God  by  proper  merit  in  commu- 
tative justice,  yet  one  of  the  most  ready,  constant,  undoubted 
evidences  of  my  uprightness  and  interest  in  his  covenant,  is  the 
consciousness  of  my  living  devoted  to  him.  I  the  more  easily  be- 
lieve the  pardon  of  my  failings  through  my  Redeemer,  while  I 
know  that  I  serve  no  other  master,  and  that  I  know  no  other  end. 
or  trade,  or  business,  but  that  I  am  employed  in  his  work,  and 
make  it  the  object  of  my  life  to  live  to  him  in  the  world,  notwith- 
standing my  infirmities.  This  bent  and  business  of  my  life,  with 
my  longing  desires  after  perfection,  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of 
God,  and  in  a  holy  and  heavenly  mind  and  life,  are  the  two  stand- 
ing, constant,  discernible  evidences  which  most  put  me  out  of  doubt 
of  my  sincerity.  And  I  find  that  it  is  constant  action  and  duty 
that  keepeth  the  first  always  in  sight ;  and  constant  wants  and 
weaknesses,  and  coming  short  of  my  desires,  do  make  those  desires 
still  the  more  troublesome,  and  so  the  more  easily  perceived. 

"  39.  Though  my  habitual  judgment,  resolution,  and  scope  of 
life,  be  still  the  same,  yet  I  find  a  great  mutability  as  to  the  actual 
apprehensions  and  degrees  of  grace ;  and  consequently  find  that  so 
mutable  a  thing  as  the  mind  of  man  would  never  keep  itself  it  God 
were  not  its  keeper.  When  I  have  been  seriously  musing  upon 
the  reasons  of  Christianity,  with  the  concurrent  evidences  method- 
ically placed  in  their  just  advantages  before  my  eyes,  I  am  so  clear 
in  my  belief  of  the  Christian  verities,  that  Satan  hath  little  room 
for  a  temptation ;  but  sometimes,  when  he  hath  on  a  sudden  set 
some  tem))tation  before  me,  when  the  foresaid  eviden(;es  have  been 
out  of  the  way,  or  less  upon  my  thoughts,  he  hath,  by  such  sur- 
prises, amazed  me,  and  weakened  my  faith  in  the  present  act.     So 


198  LIFE    OF   RICHARD    BAXTER. 

also  as  to  the  love  of  God,  and  trusting  in  him :  sometimes,  when 
the  motives  are  clearly  apprehended,  the  duty  is  more  easy  and  de- 
lightful ;  and  at  other  times,  I  am  merely  passive  and  dull,  if  not 
guilty  of  actual  despondency  and  distrust. 

"40.  lam  much  more  cautelous  in  my  belief  of.  history  than 
heretofore.  Not  that  I  run  into  their  extreme,  that  will  believe 
nothing,  because  they  cannot  believe  all  things.  But  I  am  abun- 
dantly satisfied,  by  tb.e  experience  of  this  age,  that  there  is  no  be- 
lieving two  sorts  of  men,  ungodly  men,  and  partial  men,  though 
an  honest  heathen  of  no  religion  may  be  believed,  where  enmity 
against  religion  biaseth  him  not ;  yet  a  debauched  Christian,  besides 
his  enmity  to  the  power  and  practice  of  his  own  religion,  is  seldom 
without  some  further  bias  of  interest  and  faction ;  especially  when 
these  concur,  and  a  man  is  both  ungodly  and  ambitious,  espousing 
an  interest  contrary  to  a  holy,  heavenly  life,  and  also  factious,  im- 
bodying  himself  with  a  sector  party  suited  to  his  spirit  and  designs, 
there  is  no  believing  his  word  or  oath." 

"  Thus  much  of  the  alterations  of  my  soul,  since  my  younger  years, 
I  thought  best  to  give  the  reader,  instead  of  all  those  experiences 
and  actual  motions  and  affections  which  I  suppose  hhn  rather  to 
have  expected  an  account  of.  And  having  transcribed  thus  much 
of  a  life  which  God  hath  read,  and  conscience  hath  read,  and  must 
further  read,  I  humbly  lament  it,  and  beg  pardon  of  it,  as  sinful, 
and  too  unequal  and  unprofitable.  I  warn  the  reader  to  amend 
that  in  his  own  which  he  findeth  to  have  been  amiss  in  mine ;  con- 
fessing also  that  much  hath  been  amiss  which  I  have  not  here  par- 
ticularly mentioned,  and  that  I  have  not  lived  according  to  the 
abundant  mercies  of  the  Lord.  But  what  I  have  recorded  hath 
been  especially  to  perform  my  vows,  and  declare  his  praise  to  all 
generations,  who  hath  filled  up  ray  days  with  his  invaluable  favors, 
and  bound  me  to  bless  his  name  forever." 

"Having  mentioned  the  changes  which  1  think  were  for  the  bet- 
ter, I  must  add,  that,  as  I  confessed  many  of  my  sins  before,  so  1 
have  been  guilty  of  many  since,  which,  because  materially  they 
seemed  small,  have  had  the  less  resistance,  and  yet,  on  the  review, 
do  trouble  me  more  than  if  they  had  been  greater,  done  in  igno- 
rance." "To  have  sinned  while  1  preached  and  wrote  against  sin, 
and  had  such  abundant  and  great  obligations  from  God,  and  made 
so  many,  promises  against  it,  doth  lay  me  very  low ;  not  so  much 
in  fear  of  hell,  as  in  great  displeasure  against  myself,  and  such  self- 
abhorrence  as  would  cause  revenge  upon  myself,  were  it  not  for- 
bidden. When  God  forgiveth  me,  I  cannot  forgive  myself;  espe- 
cially for  my  rash  words  or  deeds,  by  which  I  have  seemed  injuri- 
ous and  less  tender  and  kind  than  1  should  have  been  to  my  near 
and  dear  relations,  whose  love  abundantly   obliged  me.     When 


iM. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  199 

such  are  dead,  though  we  never  differed  in  point  of  interest,  or 
any  other  matter,  every  sour  or  cross,  provoking  word  which  I 
gave  them,  maketh  me  ahnost  irreconcilable  to  myself,  and  tells 
me  how  repentance  brought  some  of  old  to  pray  to  the  dead 
whom  they  had  wronged,  to  forgive  them,  in  the  hurry  of  their 
passion. 

"  And  though  I  before  told  the  change  of  my  judgment  against 
provoking  wiitings,  I  have  had  more  will  than  skill  since  to  avoid  such. 
I  must  mention  it  by  way  of  penitent  confession,  that  I  am  too 
much  inclined  to  such  words  in  controversial  writings,  which  are 
too  keen  and  apt  to  provoke  the  person  whom  I  write  against. 
Sometimes  I  suspect  that  age  soureth  my  spirits ;  and  sometimes  I 
am  apt  to  think  that  it  is  long  thinking  and  speaking  of  such  things 
that  maketh  me  weary  and  less  patient  with  others  that  understand 
them  not ;  and  sometimes  I  am  ready  to  think  that  it  is  out  of  a 
hatred  of  the  flattering  humor  which  now  prevaileth  so  in  the 
world,  that  few  persons  are  able  to  bear  the  truth.  And  I  am  sure 
that  I  can  hardly  bear  myself  such  language  as  I  use  to  others,  but 
that  I  expect  it.  I  think  all  these  are  partly  causes  ;  but  I  am  sure 
the  principal  cause  is  a  long  custom  of  studying  how  to  speak  and 
write  in  the  keenest  manner  to  the  common,  ignorant  and  ungod- 
ly people,  (without  which  keenness  no  sermon  or  book  does 
them  much  good,)  which  hath  so  habituated  me  to  it,  that  I  am 
still  falling  into  the  same  with  others,  forgetting  that  many  minis- 
ters and  professors  of  strictness  do  desire  the  greatest  sharpness  to 
the  vulgar  and  to  their  adversaries,  and  the  greatest  lenity  and 
smoothness  and  comfort,  if  not  honor  to  themselves.  I  have  a 
strong  natural  inclination  to  speak  of  every  subject  just  as  it  is,  and 
to  call  a  spade  a  spade,  and  verba  rebus  aptare  ;  so  as  that  the  thing 
spoken  of  may  be  fullest  known  by  the  words  ;  which  methinks  is 
part  of  our  speaking  truly.  But  I  unfeignedly  confess  that  it  is 
faulty,  because  imprudent;  for  that  is  not  a  good  means  which  doth 
harm,  because  it  is  not  fitted  to  the  end  ;  and  because,  whilst  the  read- 
ers think  me  angry,  though  I  feel  no  passion  at  such  times  in  myself, 
it  is  scandalous,  and  a  hindrance  to  the  usefulness  of  what  I  write  ; 
and  especially,  because,  though  I  feel  no  anger,  yet,  v/hich  is  worse, 
I  know  that  there  is  some  want  of  honor,  and  love,  or  tenderness 
to  others  ;  or  else  I  should  not  be  apt  to  use  such  words  as  open 
their  weakness  and  offend  them."  "  And  I  must  say  as  the  New 
England  synodists,  in  their  Defense  against  Mr.  Davenport :  '  We 
heartily  desire,  that,  as  much  as  maybe,  all  expressions  and  reflec- 
tions may  be  forborne  that  tend  to  break  the  bond  of  love.  Indeed, 
such  is  our  infirmity,  that  the  naked  discovery  of  the  fallacy  or  in- 
validity of  another's  allegations  or  arguings  is  apt  to  provoke. 
This  in  disputes  is  unavoidable.'     And,  therefore,  I  am  less  for  a 


";j»i 


200  LIFE   PF   RICHARD    BAXTER. 

disputing  way  than  ever,  believing  that  it  tempteth  men  to  bend 
their  wits  to  defend  their  errors,  and  oppose  the  truth,  and  hinder- 
eth  usually  their  information." 

"  That  which  I  named  before,  on  the  by,  is  grown  one  of  my 
great  diseases ;  I  have  lost  much  of  that  zeal  which  I  had  to  propa- 
gate any  truths  to  others,  save  the  mere  fundamentals."  "  I  am 
ready  to  think  that  people  should  quickly  understand  all  in  a  few 
words  ;  and  if  they  cannot,  lazily  to  despair  of  them,  and  leave  them 
to  themselves.  I  know  the  more  that  this  is  sinful  in  me,  because 
it  is  pailly  so  in  other  things,  even  about  the  faults  of  my  servants 
or  other  inferiors  ;  if  three  or  four  times  warning  do  no  good  to  them, 
I  am  much  tempted  to  despair  of  them,  turn  them  away,  and  leave 
them  to  themselves. 

"  I  mention  all  these  distempers  that  my  faults  maybe  a  warning 
to  others  to  take  heed,  as  they  call  on  myself  for  repentance  and 
watchfulness.  O  Lord  I  for  the  merits,  and  sacrifice,  and  interces- 
sion of  Christ,  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner,  and  forgive  my  known 
and  unknown  sins  !  "* 

It  might  have  been  supposed  that  so  great  a  national  calamity 
as  "  the  plague  in  London,"  which  in  a  few  months  swept  to  the 
grave  one  hundred  thousand  people  in  that  city  alone,  would  have 
brought  the  rulers  of  the  nation,  in  church  and  state,  to  another 
temper.  But  as  the  monarch,  while  the  pestilence  was  desolating 
his  kingdom,  was  the  same  lustful  and  profligate  wretch  that  he 
ever  had  been ;  so  the  prelates  and  their  partisans,  amid  the  terrors 
of  that  visitation,  were  as  intent  as  ever  on  the  oppression  and  ex- 
tirpation of  those  whom  they  hated  and  feared  as  Puritans. 

"  The  ministers  that  were  silenced  for  nonconformity,  had  ever, 
since  1662,  done  their  work  very  privately  and  to  a  few :  "  But 
"  when  the  plague  grew  hot,  most  of  the  conformable  ministers 
fled  and  left  their  flocks  in  the  time  of  their  extremity  ;  whereupon 
divers  nonconformists,  pitying  the  dying  and  distressed  people, 
who  had  none  to  call  the  impenitent  to  repentance,  or  to  help  men 
to  prepare  for  another  world,  or  to  comfort  them  in  their  terrors, 
when  about  ten  thousand  died  in  a  week,  resolved  that  no  obedi- 
ence to  the  laws  of  mortal  men  whatsoever  could  justify  them  in 
neglecting  men's  souls  and  bodies  in  such  extremities."  "  There- 
fore,  they  resolved  to  stay  with  the  people,  and  to  go  into  the  for- 
saken pulpits,  though  prohibited,  and  to  preach  to  the  poor  people 
before  they  died;  also  to  visit  the  sick,  and  get  what  relief  they 
could  for  the  poor,  especially  those  that  were  shut  up.  The  face 
of  death  did  so  awaken  both  the  preachers  and  the  hearers,  that 
the  preachers  exceeded  themselves  in  lively  and  fervent  preach- 

"  Narrative,  Part  I.  pp.  124,  138. 


fif- 


LIFE    OF    KICHAUB    BAXTER.  201 

ing,  and  the  people  crowded  constantly  to  hear  them ;  and  all  was 
done  with  so  great  seriousness,  that,  through  the  blessing  of  God, 
abundance  were  converted  from  their  carelessness,  impenitency,  and 
youthful  lusts  and  vanities ;  and  religion  took*  that  hold  on  many 
hearts,  as  could  never  afterwards  be  loosed."* 

At  this  time  it  was,  the  parliament  being  assembled  at  Oxford, 
whither  the  king  had  removed  his  court  on  account  of  the  plague, 
that  it  seemed  good  in  the  eyes  of  Lord  Clarendon,  Archbishop 
Sheldon  and  their  associates,  to  visit  the  ejected  ministers  with  new 
pefsecutions;  A  law  was  therefore  enacted,  Oct.  1665,  entitled 
"  An  Act  to  restrain  Nonconformists  from  inhabiting  Corporations." 
By  this  act  every  nonconforming  minister  was  required  to  profess, 
with  a  solemn  oath,  the  unlawfulness  of  taking  arms  against  the 
king  or  those  commissioned  by  him,  upon  any  pretense  whatso- 
ever ;  and  to  promise,  with  the  same  Solemnity,  never,  at  anytime, 
to  endeavor  any  alteration  of  government  in  church  or  state.  After 
the  24th  of  the  following  March,  no  nonconforming  minister  should 
be  allowed,  unless  in  passing  the  road,  to  "  come  or  be  within 
five  miles  of  any  city,  town  corporate,  or  borough  that  sends  bur- 
gesses to  parliament,  or  within  five  miles  of  any  parish,  town  or 
place  wherein  they  had,  since  the  act  of  oblivion,  been  parson, 
vicar,  or  lecturer,  or  where  they  had  preached  in  any  conventicle, 
on  any  pretense  whatsoever,". without  having  first  publicly  taken 
and  subscribed  this  oath.  Every  offense  against  this  act  was  to  be 
punished  with  a  fine  of  forty  pounds,  one  third  of  which  should  be 
for  the  informer  ;  and  any  two  justices  of  the  peace,  upon  oath 
made  before  them,  were  empowered  to  commit  the  offender  to 
prison  for  six  months  without  bail. 

The  ingenuity  which  framed  this  act  was  equal  to  the  cruelty 
which  inspired  it.  The  oath  prescribed  was,  upon  the  face  of  it, 
a  denial  of  all  the  liberties  of  Englishmen  ;  insomuch  that,  without 
much  explanation,  no  honest  man  could  take  it.  The  refusal  of  this 
oath  by  any  of  those  against  whom  the  provisions  of  the  act  were 
directed,  it  was  designed,  should  drive  them  from  all  those  places, 
where  they  were  known,  or  had  any  possible  means  of  subsistence, 
either  by  their  personal  exertions  or  by  the  contributions  of  their 
friends.  "  In  this  strait,"  says  Baxter,  "■  those  ministers  that  had 
any  maintenance  of  their  own,  did  find  out  some  dwellings  in  obscure 
villages,  or  in  some  few  market  towns  which  were  no  corporations. 
And  those  that  had  nothing  did  leave  their  wives  and  children,  and 
hid  themselves  abroad,  andsometimes  came  secretly  to  them  by  night. 
But  (God  bringing  good  out  of  man's  evil)  many  resolved  to  preach 
tlie  more  freely  in  cities  and  corporations  till  they  went  to  prison. 

*  P^arrative,  Part  III.  p-  2. 
VOL.    I.  2G 


202  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

Partly  because  they  were  then  in  the  way  of  their  calling,  in  which 

they  could  suffer  with  the  greater  peace  ;  and  partly  because  they 
might  so  do  some  good  before  they  suffered ;  and  partly  because  the 
people  much  desired  it,  and  also  were  readier  to  relieve  one  that 
labored  for  them,  than  one  that  did  nothing  but  hide  himself;  and 
partly  because,  when  they  lay  in  prison  for  preaching  the  gospel, 
both  they  and  their  wives  and  children  were  like  to  find  more  pity 
and  relief  than  if  they  should  forsake  their  people  and  their  work." 
"And  yet,  when  they  had  so  chosen,  their  straits  were  great ;  for 
the  country  was  so  impoverished,  that  those  of  the  -people  who 
were  willing  to  relieve  the  ministers  were  not  able.  And  most 
that  were  able,  were  partly  their  adversaries,  and  partly  worldly- 
minded,  and  strait-handed,  and  unwilling.  And,  alas  I  it  is  not  now 
and  then  a  shilling,  or  a  crown  given  very  rarely,  which  will  pay. 
house-rent,  and  maintain-  a  family.  Those  ministers  that  were  un- 
married did  easilier  bear  their  poverty ;  but  it  pierceth  a  man's 
heart  to  hav-e  children  crying,  and  sickness  come  upon  them,  for 
want  of  wholesome  food,  and  to  have  nothing  to  relieve  them." 
"  I  heard  but  lately  of  a  good  man  that  was  fain  to  spin,  as  women 
do,  to  get  something  towards  his  family's  relief,  (which  could  be 
but  little,)  and  being  melancholy  and  diseased,  it  was  but  part  of 
the  day  that  he  was  able  to  do  that.  Another,  for  a  long  time,  had 
but  little  but  brown  rye  bread  and  water,  for  himself,  his  wife,  and 
many  children,  and  when  his  wife  was  ready  to  lie  in,  was  to  be 
turned  out  of  door,  for  not  paying  his  house-rent.  Yet  God  did 
mercifully  provide  some  supplies,  that  few  of  them  either  perished 
or  were  exposed  to  sordid  unseemly  begging."* 

Baxter,  notwithstanding  the  severity  of  this  law,  returned  to 
Acton,  just  before  it  was  to  take  effect.  He  found  the  church-yard 
like  a  ploughed  field  with  graves,  and  many  of  his  neighbors  dead  ; 
but  his  own  house,  near  the  church-yard,  uninfected,  and  that  part 
of  his  family  which  he  left  there,  all  safe. 

Just  six  months  after  his  return,  London  was  visited  with  another 
great  calamity.  On  the  third  of  Sept.  1666,  commenced  the  "great 
fire."  "  The  best,  and  one  of  the  fairest  cities  in  the  world,  was 
turned  into  ashes  and  ruins  in  three  days'  space,  with  many  score 
churches  and  the  wealth  and  necessaries  of  the  inhabitants.  It  was 
a  sight  that  might  have  given  any  man  a  lively  sense  of  the  vanity 
of  this  world,  and  all  the  wealth  and  glory  of  it,  and  of  the  future 
conflagration  of  all  the  Avorld  ; — to  see  the  flames  mount  up  towards 
heaven,  and  proceed  so  furiously  without  restraint ;  to  see  the 
streets  filled  with  people  astonished,  that  had  scarce  sense  left  them 
to  lament  their  o\vn  calamity ;  to  see  the  fields  filled  with  heaps 

"  Narrative,  Part  III.  p.  4. 


LIFE    OF    RiCHARD    BAXTER.  5?03 

of  goods,  and  sumptuous  buildings,  curious  rooms,  costly  furniture, 
apd  household  stuff,  yea,  warehouses,  and  furnished  shops,  and 
libraries,  all  on  a  flame,  and  none  durst  come  near  to  receive  any 
thing ; — to  see  the  king  and  nobles  ride  about  the  streets,  behold- 
ing all  those  desolations,  and  none  could  afford  the  least  relief; — to 
see- the  air,  as  far  as  could  be  beheld,  so  filled  with  the  smoke  that 
the  sun  shined  through  it  with  a  color  like  blood.  But  the  dole- 
fulest  sight  of  all  was  afterwards,  to  see  what  a  ruinous  confused 
place  the  city  was, by  chimneys  and  steeples  only,  standing  in  the 
midst  of  cellars  and  heaps  of  rubbish ;  so  that  it  was  hard  to  know 
where  the  streets  had  been,  and  dangerous,  for  a  long  time,  to  pass 
through  the  ruins  because  of  vaults  and  fire  in  them.  No  man 
that  seeth  not  such  a  thing  can  have  a  right  apprehension  of  the 
dreadfulness  of  it." 

"This  is  the  third  terrible  judgment  which  London  suffered 
since  the  king's  return.  First,  many  score  of  their  faithful  teachers 
were  silenced  and  cast  out,  and  afterwards  banished  or  confined 
five  miles  from  the  city.  Next,  the  plague,  and  other  sickness, 
consumed  about  an  hundred  thousand.  And  when  they  began"  to 
be  settled  in  their  habitations  again,  the  flames  devoured  their 
houses  and  their  substance.  And  it  is  not  hard  for  the  reader  here 
to  imagine  how  many  thousands  this  must  needs  cast  into  utter  want 
and  beggary ;  and  how  many  thousands  of  the  formerly  rich  were 
disabled  from  relieving  them.  And,  at  the  same  time,  so  many 
hundred  families  of  silenced  ministers  to  be  relieved,  that  looked  to 
London  most  for  help."* 

"  But  some  good  rose  out  of  all  these  evils.  The  churches  being 
burnt,  and  the  parish  ministers  gone,  for  want  of  places  and  main- 
tenance, the  nonconformists  were  now  more  resolved  than  ever  to 
preach  till  they  were  imprisoned."  Many  of  them  kept  their  meet- 
ings very  openly,  "  and  prepared  large  rooms,  and  some  of  them 
plain  chapels,  with  pulpits,  seats,  and  galleries,  for  the  reception  of 
as  many  as  could  come.  The  people's  necessity  was  now  unques- 
tionable. They  had  none  other  to  hear,  save  in  a  hw  churches, 
that  would  hold  no  considerable  part  of  them ;  so  that  to  forbid 
them  to  hear  the  nonconformists,  was  all  one  as  to  forbid  them  all 
public  worship ;  to  forbid  them  to  seek  heaven,  when  they  had  lost 
almost  all  that  they  had  on  earth ;  to  take  from  them  their  spiritual 
comforts,  after  all  their  outward  comforts  were  gone."f 

During  the  following  year,  the  public  calamities,  including  the 
ill  success  of  the  war  in  which  the  king  was  engaged  with  the 
Dutch,  conspired  with  some  other  causes  to  effect  the  overthrow 
of  Lord  Clarendon,  the  prime  minister,  who  had  been  the  author 

•Narrative,  Part  III.  p.  18.  i  Narrative,  Part  III.  p.  19. 


204  LIFE    OF   JIICHARD    BAXTER. 

of  the  act  of  unifoniiity,  and  the  great  enemy  of  the  Puritans  from 
the  hour  of  the  restoration.  He  was  impeached  in  parhamei\J," 
and,  barely  escaping  with  his  hfe,  was  condemned  to  perpetual 
banishment.  He  was  honestly  a  Protestant ;  and,  with  a  true 
dignity,  he  always  frowned  on  the  unspeakable  profligacy  of  the 
king  and  his  minions.  At  the  same  time,  his  talents,  his  experi- 
ence, and  his  influence  with  parliament,  made  his  seryices  for  many 
years  indispensable.  But  when  popular  indignation  began  to  turn 
against  the  chancellor,  Charles  was  glad  to  be  rid  of  him ;  nor  is  it 
probable  that  the  monarch's  joy  was  at  all  checked  by  any  feeling 
of  gi'atitude  toward  the  man  to  whose  almost  superstitious  loyalty 
he  owed  so  much.  "  It  was  a  notable  providence  of  God,"  says 
Baxter,  "  that  this  man,  who  had  been  the  great  instrument  of 
state,  and  had  dealt  so  cruelly  with  the  nonconformists,  should  thus, 
by  his  own  friends,  be  cast  out  and  banished,  while  those  that  he 
had  persecuted  were  the  most  moderate  in  his  cause,  and  many  of 
them  for  him.  It  was  a  great  ease  that  befell  good  people  through- 
out the  land  by  his  dejection.  For  his  way  had  been  to  decoy 
men  into  conspiracies,  or  to  pretend  plots,  upon  the  rumor  of  which 
the  innocent  people  of  many  counties  were  laid  in  prison ;  so  that 
no  man  knew  when  he  was  safe.  Since  then,  the  laws  have  been 
made  more  and  more  severe,  yet  a  man  knoweth  a  little  better  what 
to  expect,  when  it  is  by  a  law  that  he  is  to  be  tried."*    . 

Clarendon  was  succeeded  as  prime  minister  by  the  duke  of  Buck- 
ingham, a  man  as  unprincipled  and  profligate  as  the  king  himself. 
Yet,  he  having  formerly,  out  of  opposition  to  Clarendon,  been  a 
favorer  of  the  nonconformists,  that  persecuted  party  found  under 
his  administration  some  temporary  relief.  The  act  for  the  suppres- 
sion of  conventicles,  by  which  the  hearers  were  made  liable  to  fine 
and  imprisonment,  was  suffered  to  expire  ;  and  the  ejected  ministers 
began,  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  to  imitate  the  boldness  which 
their  brethren  in  the  city  had  practiced  since  the  fire,  and  for  a 
while  were  connived  at  by  the  government  beyond  their  own  ex- 
pectations. Baxter,  from  the  beginning  of  his  residence  at  Acton, 
had  uniformly  preached  to  his  own  family,  on  the  Sabbath,  at  such 
hours  as  did  not  interfere  with  the  established  worship ;  and  now 
he  had  his  house  full  of  the  people  of-  the  place. 

At  this  period,  some  of  the  leading  Presbyterians  were  consulted 
by  some  of  the  more  moderate  among  the  bishops,  and  some  of 
the  most  eminent  members  of  the  administration,  about  a  new 
scheme  of  comprehension  and  toleration  for  the  Protestant  dissent- 
ers. Baxter  has  given  a  detailed  account  of  this  negotiation.  It 
was  defeated  by  the  management  of  Archbishop  Sheldon  and  his 

*  Narrative,  Part  III.  p.  20. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  205 

party,  who  contrived  to  get  a  proclamation  from  the  king  commtlnd- 
ins;  the  laws  against  the  nonconformists  to  be  put  m  execution,  and 
especially  the  law  banishing  the  ejected  ministers  from  all  corpo- 
rate towns. 

Thus  the  persecution  was  renewed,  in  the  beginning  of  the  year 
1669  ;  and  the  prisons  again  began  to  be  filled  with  ministers  of  the 
gospel.  Baxter  mentions  several  of  his  neighbors  who  were  among 
the  sufferers,  one  "  for  teaching*  a  few  children,"  another  "  for 
teaching  two  knights'  sons  in  his  own  house ; "  though  he  himself 
still  escaped.  Possibly  one  reason  of  this  indulgence  was  the  uiti- 
macy  which  he  had  formed  about  this  time  with  one  of  the  most 
illustrious  men  of  that  or  any  other  age,  whose  relations  to  the 
government,  as  well  as  his  personal  character,  might  have  checked 
for  a  while  the  malice  of  informers. 

"The  last  year  of  my  abode  at  Acton,"  he  says,  "I  had  the 
happiness  of  a  neighbor  whom  I  cannot  easily  praise  above  his 
woi'th.  This  was  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  lord  chief  baron  of  the  ex- 
chequer, whom  all  the  judges  and  lawyers  of  England  admired  for 
his"  skill  in  law,  and  for  his  justice,  and  scholars  honored  for  his 
learning,  and  I  highly  valued  for  his  sincerity,  mortification,  self- 
denial,  humility,  conscientiousness,  and  his  close  fidelity  in  friend- 
ship. When  he  came  first  to  town,  I  came  not  near  him  (lest, 
being  a  silenced  and  suspected  person  with  his  superiors,  I  should 
draw  him  also  under  suspicion,  and  do  him  wrong)  till  I  had  notice 
round  about  of  his  desire  of  my  acquaititance.  And  I  scarce  ever 
conversed  so  profitably  with  any  other  person  in  my  life." 

"  The  conference  which  I  had  frequently  with  him,  mostly  about 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  other  philosophical  and  foundation 
points,  was  so  edifying,  that  his  very  questions  and  objections  did 
help  me  to  more  light  than  other  men's  solutions..  Those  who 
take  none  for  religious,  who  frequent  not  private  meetings,  &c., 
took  him  for  an  excellently  righteous,  moral  man  :  but  I,  who  heard 
and  reafl  his  serious  expressions  of  the  concernments  of  eternity, 
and  saw  his  love  to  all  good  men,  and  the  blamelessness  of  his  life, 
thought  better  of  his  piety  than  of  my  own.  When  the  people 
crowded  in  and  out  of  my  house  to  hear,  he  openly  showed  me  so 
great  respect  before  them  at  the  door,  and  .  never  spake  a  word 
against  it,  as  was  no  small  encouragement  to  the  common  people  to 
go  on  ;  though  the  other  sort  muttered  that  a  judge  should  seem  so 
far  to  countenance  that  which  they  took  to  be  against  the  law." 

The  arm  of  the  law,  however,  soon  fell  heavily  on  Baxter,  not- 
withstanding this  intimacy  of  his  with  the  most  illustrious  of  its 
ministers.  The  king  himself — so  Dean  Ryves,  the  parson  of  the 
parish,  afterwards  said  by  way  of  apology — sent  a  message  to  the 
bishop  of  London,  ordering  him  to  see  that  Baxter's  meeting  was 


206  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

suprpressed.     Hereupon  Baxter  was  apprehended;   and,  having 
refused  to  take  tlie  Oxford  oath,  he  was,  without  any  form  of  trial, 
committed  by  two  justices  of  the  peace  to  Clerkenwell  prison  for' 
six  months. 

As  he  went  to  prison,  he  called  on  his  friend  Sergeant  Fountain 
for  legal  advice,  who,  on  an  examination  of  the  mittimus,  advised 
him  to  seek  for  a  habeas  corpm,  in  the  Court  of  Common  Pleas. 
On  this  subject  he  remained  some  time  in  suspense.  "  My  impris- 
onment," he  says,  "was  at  present  no  great  suffering  to  me,  for  I 
had  an  honest  jailer,  who  showed  me  all  the  kindness  he  could.  I 
had  a  large  room,  and  the  liberty  of  walking  in  a  fair  garden.  My 
wife  was  never  so  cheerful  a  companion  to  me  as  in  prison,  and 
was  very  much  against  my  seeking  to  be  released.  She  had  brought 
so  many  necessaries,  that  we  kept  house  as  contentedly  and  com- 
fortably as  at  home,  though  in  a  narrow  room,  and  I  had  the  sight 
of  more  of  my  friends  in  a  day,  than  I  had  at  home  in  half  a  year. 
And  I  knew  that,  if  I  got  out  against  their  will,  my  sufferings  woold 
be  never  the  nearer  to  an  end.  But  yet,  on  the  other  side,  it  was 
in  the  extremest  heat  of  summer,  when  London  was  wont  to  have 
epidemical  diseases.  The  hope  of  my  dying  in  prison,  I  have 
reason  to  think,  was  one  great  inducement  to  some  of  the  instru- 
ments to  move  to  what  they  did."  Beside  all  this,  his  chamber  was 
in  a  noisy  place,  so  that  he  had  little  hope  of  sleeping  but  by  day, 
and  his  strength  was  already  so  little,  that  such  a  change  would 
soon  destroy  his  life.  The  number  of  his  visitors,  too,  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  do  any  thing  but  to  entertain  them.  And, 
after  all,  he  was  in  prison,  with  no  leave  at  any  time  to  go  out  of 
doors,  much  less  to  attend  public  worship,  or  to  preach  to  any 
body  but  the  inmates  of  his  narrow  chamber. 

He  was  advised  by  some  to  petition  the  king ;  but  he  declined 
any  such  movement.  His  friends  at  court,  the  earl  of  Manchester, 
the  earl  of  Orrery,  and  others,  exerted  their  influence  with 'the 
king  in  vain.  Charles  only  assured  tl^em  that  he  would  not  be 
offended  if  Baxter  sought  a  remedy  at  law.  So  an  appeal  to  the 
law  was  resolved  upon ;  and  when  the  question  came  before  the 
Court  of  Common  Pleas,  he  was  released  on  the  ground  of  some 
informalities  in  the  commitment. 

But  here,  according  to  his  own  statement,  was  but  the  beginning 
of  his  sufferings.  His  enemies  were  exasperated,  and  he  was  still 
in  their  power.  He  had  an  expensive  hired  house  on  his  hands, 
which  he  could  no  longer  occupy.  He  knew  not  what  to  do  with 
his  goods  and  his  family.  He  .must  go  out  of  the  county  of  Mid- 
dlesex ;  and  must  go  nowhere  within  five  miles  of  any  city  or  cor- 
porate town.  '■'  Where  to  find  such  a  place,  and  therein  a  house, 
and  how  to  remove  my  goods  thither,"  he  says,  "  and  what  to  do 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  207 

with  my  house  till  my  time  expired,  were  more  trouble  than  my 
quiet  prison  by  far." 

"The  next  habitation,"  he  adds,  "which  God  chose  for  me, 
was  at  Totteridge,  near  Barnet,  where,  for  a  year,  I  was  fain,  with 
part  of  my  family  separated  from  the  rest,  to  take  a  few  mean 
rooms,  which  were  so  extremely  smoky,  and  the  place  withal  so 
cold,  that  I  spent  the  winter  in  great  pain  ;  one  quarter  of  a  year 
by  a  sore  sciatica,  and  seldom  free  from  such  anguish." 

This  removal  was  in  the  summer  of  1669.  Soon  afterwards  the 
act  against  conventicles  was  renewed  by  parliament,  with  new  and 
more  severe  provisions,  one  of  which  was  that  no  fault  of  the  mit- 
timus should  make  it  void. 

In  the  following  summer,  the  duke  of  Lauderdale,  who  was 
proceeding  to  Scotland  to  effect  some  ecclesiastical  changes  there, 
sought  an  interview  with  Baxter,  and  offered  him  any  situation  in 
Scotland  which  he  might  choose — a  church,  a  bishopric,  or  a  place 
in  one  of  the  universities.     Baxter  declined  this  offer  for  several 
reasons :  his  infirmities  of  body  were  such  that  his  life,  he  was 
confident,  must  be  short,  and  would  be  shortened  by  a  more  north- 
em  climate ;   he  was  employed   in  writing  his  Methodus  Theo- 
logiae,  and  expected  that  the  remainder  of  his  life,  which  he  esti- 
mated at  about  one  year,  would  be  barely  sufficient  to  finish  that 
work;  he  had  understood  that  Scotland  was  well  supplied  with 
preachers,  and  he  apprehended  the  people  there  would  have  jealous 
thoughts  of  a  stranger ;  and  finally  the  idea  of  removing  his  family, 
including  an  aged  mother-in-law,  too  infirm  to  travel,  with  all  their 
goods  and  books  to  such  a  distance,  deterred  him  from  such  an 
undertaking.     "  All  this,"  he  says  in  his  letter  to  the  duke  on  the 
occasion,  "  concurreth  to  deprive  me  of  this  benefit  of  your  lord- 
ship's favor.     But,  my  lord,  there  are  other  fruits  of  it  which  I  am 
not  altogether  hopeless  of  receiving. — ^I  am  weary  of  the  noise  of 
contentious  revilers,  and  have  oft  had  thoughts  to  go  into  a  foreign 
land,  if  I  could  find  any  where  I  might  have  a  healthful  air  and 
quietness,  that  I  might  but  live  and  die  in  peace.     When  I  sit  in  a 
corner,  and  meddle  with  nobody,  and.  hope  the  world  will  forget 
that  1  am  alive,  court,  city,  and  country  is  still  filfed  with  clamors 
against  me  ;  and  when  a  preacher  wanteth  preferment,  his  way  is 
to  preach  or  write  a  book  against  the  nonconformists,  and  me  by 
name."     "  I  expect  not  that  any  favor  or  justice  of  my  superiors 
should  cure  any  of  this,  but  (1.)  if  I  might  but  be  heard  for  myself 
before  I  be  judged  by  them  ;  (2.)  if  1  might  live  quietly  to  follow 
my  private  studies,  and  might  have  once  again  the  use  of  my  books, 
(which  I  have  not  seen  for  these  ten  years,  and  pay  for  a  room  for 
their  standing  at  Kidderminster,  where  tiiey  are  eaten  by  worms 
and  rats,  having  no  security  for  any  quiet  abode  in  any  place  enough 


208  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

to  encourage  me  to  send  for  them ;)  and  if  I  might  have  the  hberty 
that  every  beggar  hath,  to  travel  from  town  to  town — I  mean  but 
to  London  to  oversee  the  press  when  any  thing  of  mine  \9  Hcensed 
for  it ;  and  (3.)  if  I  be  sent  to  Newgate  for  preaching  Christ's 
gospel,  if  I  may  have  the  favor  of  a  better  prison  where  I  may  but 
walk  and  write : — these  I  should  take  as  very  great  favors,  and 
acknowledge  youi'  lordship  my  benefactor  if  you  procure  them ; 
for  I  will  not  so  much  injure  you  as  to  desire,  nor  my  reason  as  to 
expect,  any  greater  matters.* 

During  all  these  years,  while  Protestant  dissenters  were  so  hotly 
persecuted,  the  Papists  had  been  comparatively  at  ease ;  and  the 
king  and  his  most  confidential  servants  had  been  pursuing  the  design 
of  subverting  the  constitutional  liberties  and  the  Protestant  religion 
of  the  English  nation.  They  favored  the  persecution  of  the  non- 
conformists, hoping  thus  to  bring  about  a  general  toleration,  which 
might  be  preparatory  to, the  reestablishment  of  Popery.  They  were 
willing  tQ,  see  the  Protestants  divided,  and  each  party  more  and  more 
alienated  from  the  other,  that  there  might  be  no  united  opposition 
to  their  scheme.  They  knew  that  the  Puritans  were  of  old  the 
most  uncompromising  opposers  of  Popery,  and  the  sturdiest  assert- 
ers  of  liberty ;  and  they  hoped  that  this  party,  humbled  by  perse- 
cution, might  at  last  take  shelter  under  the  throne,  and,  finding  in 
the  royal  prerogative  that  protection  which  laws  and  parliaments 
had  denied,  might  become  the  partisans  of  the  power  to  which  they 
owed  their  liberties.  The  first  parhament  elected  after  the  king's 
return,  had  proved  thus  far  sufficiently  venal  and  obsequious  to 
answer  all  the  purposes  of  the  court,  and  had  therefore  been  con- 
tinued by  successive  prorogations  ever  since  May,  1661.  It  is  said 
that  more  than  one  hundred  members  of  this"  body  were  kept  in* 
pay  by  the  court.  It  is  certain  that  a  more  infamous  assembly 
under  that  name  never  disgraced  the  annals  of  England.  The 
nation's  money  was  given  to  the  king  almost  without  limit ;  and  had 
the  force  of  Charles's  character  been  equal  to  the  wickedness  of 
his  heart,  the  monarchy  of  England  might  have  been  made  as  ab- 
solute as  that  ot  France.  But  the  profligacy  of  the  king  was  in 
this  instance  the  safety  of  the  people.  The  millions  which  Charles 
received  from  parliament,  and  the  treasures  acquired  by  the  sale  of 
Dunkirk,  and  by  a  secret  treaty  with  France,  which  had  for  its 
object  the  establishment  of  an  absolute  monarchy  and  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  religion  in  Great  Britain,  were  lavished  on  harlots  and 
parasites ;  and  the  king  was  still  kept  in  a  state  of  dependence. 
Meanwhile  the  impiety  and  shameless  debaucheries  of  the  court 
spread  through  all  the  orders  of  society.     Drunkenness  and  impu- 


Narrative,  Part  III.  pp.  75,  7(5. 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER.  209 

rity  were  the  honored  badges  of  loyaUy ;  not  only  seriousness,  but 
even  temperance  and  chastity,  were  signs  of  nonconformity,  and 
prognostics  of  rebelhon;  and  the  nation,  in  spite  of  all  God's  judg- 
ments, seemed  ripening  for  the  doom  of  Sodom. 

At  this  time  [1671]  the  scheme  of  the  court  was  so  far  advanc- 
ed, that  it  was  judged  safe  to  offer  the  persecuted  nonconformists 
some  sort  of  shelter  under  the  wing  of  the  prerogative.  "  The 
ministers  in  several  parties,"  as  Baxter  informs  us,  "were  oft  en- 
.couraged  to  make  their  addresses  to  the  king,  only  to  acknowledge 
his  clemency,  by  which  they  held  their  liberties,  and  to  profess 
their  loyalty.  The  king  told  them,  that,  though  such  acts  were 
made,  he  was  against  persecution,  and  hoped  ere  long  to  stand  on 
his  own  legs,  and  then  they  should  see  how  much  he  was  against 
it.  By  this  means  many  score  nonconforming  ministers  in  London 
kept  up  preaching  in  private  houses,  some  fifty,  some  a  hundred, 
many  three  hundred,  and  many  one  or  two  thousand,  at  a  meeting, 
by  which,  for  the  present,  the  city's  necessities  were  much  sup- 
plied. For  very  few  of  the  burnt  churches  were  yet  built  up 
agam.   * 

About  the  first  of  January,  1672,  the  exchequer  was  shut  up  ; 
"so  that,"  in  the  words  of  Baxter,  "whereas  a  multitude  of  mer- 
chants and  others  had  put  their  money  into  the  bankers'  hands,  and 
the  bankers  lent  it  to  the  king,  and  the  king  gave  orders  to  pay  out 
no  more  of  it  for  a  year,  the  murmur  and  complaint  in  the  city  were 
very  great,  that  their  estates  should  be,  as  they  called  it,  so  sur- 
prised." "  Among  others,  all  the  money  and  estate,  except  ten 
pounds  per  annum,  for  eleven  or  twelve  years,  that  I  had  in  the 
world,  of  my  own,  was  there.  Indeed  it  was  not  my  own,  which 
I  will  mention  to  counsel  those  that  would  do  good,  to  do  it  speedi- 
ly, and  with  all  their  might.  I  had  got  in  all  my  life  the  just  sum 
of  one  thousand  pounds.  Having  no  child,  I  devoted  almost  all 
of  it  to  a  charitable  use,  a  free-school ;  I  used  my  best  and  ablest 
friends  for  seven  years,  with  all  the  skill  and  industry  I  could,  to 
help  nle  to  some  purchase  of  house  or  land  to  lay  it  out  on,  that  it 
might  be  accordingly  settled.  And  though  there  were  never  more 
sellers,  I  could  never,  by  all  these  friends,  hear  of  any  that  reason 
could  encourage  a  man  to  lay  it  out  on^,  as  secure  and  a  tolerable 
bargain ;  so  that  I  told  them,  I  did  perceive  the  devil's  resistance 
of  it,  and  did  verily  suspect  that  he  would  prevail,  and  I  should 
never  settle,  but  it  would  be  lost.  So  hard  is  it  to  do  any  good, 
when  a  man  Is  fully  resolved." 

This  wholesale  plunder,  by  which  the  king  gained  £1,400,000, 
was  the  first  decided  step  in  the  development  of  his  plan  for  the 


.     "  Narrative,  I'iirt  III.  j).  S7. 
VOL.  I.  27 


210  LIFE    OF    RICHAP..D    BAXTER. 

establishment  of  arbitrary  power  and  the  return  of  Popery.  The 
second  step  Avas  the  renewal  of  war,  in  alUance  with  France,  against 
the  Dutch  repubHc,  with  the  intent  of  blotting  out  that  prosperous, 
free  and  Protestant  government  from  among  the  nations.  The 
third  movement  was  the  king's  declaration,  published  March  16, 
1672,  in  which,  by  virtue  of  his  supreme' power  in  all  ecclesiastical 
matters,  he  suspended  the  execution  of  all  penal  laws  in  relation  to 
religion  ;  and  established  at  a  word  a  system  of  toleration,  under 
which  a  convenient  lumiber  of  places  was  to  be  licensed,  with  cer-^ 
tain  restrictions,  as  places  of  public  worship,  for  the  use  of  Protes- 
tant dissenters,  while  the  Papists  were  only  to  be  indulged  with  the 
liberty  of  holding  meetings  for  worship  at  their  own  discretion,  in 
their  own  houses.  The  face  of  the  declaration  seemed  to  frown 
on  the  Papists  ;  but  it  was  instantly  discovered  that  the  operation  of 
the  system  would  be  to  give  the  Roman  Catholics  much  moie 
liberty  than  was  offered  to  the  Protestants. 

The  nonconformists  saw  through  this  scheme  ;  and  yet  determin- 
ed to  avail  themselves  of  whatever  advantages  it  offered  them. 
Some  of  the  ministers  waited  on  the  king  to  thank  him  for  the  in- 
dulgence ;  and  many  of  them  took  out  licenses,  and  began  to  preach 
publicly.  Baxter  delayed  for  a  while,  till  the  ministers  in  the  city 
had  opened  their  respective  places  of  worship,  and  had  gathered 
theu"  congregations.  After  that,  he  consented  to  take  a  license, 
on  condition  he  migJit  have  it  "  without  the  title  of  Independent, 
Presbyterian,  or  any  other  party,  but  only  as  a  nonconformist." 
Such  a  license  was  obtained  for  him  ;  and  "  the  1 9th  of  Novem- 
ber," he  writes,  "  my  baptism-day,  was  the  first  day,  after  ten 
years'  silence,  that  I  preached  in  a  tolerated  public  assembly,  though 
not  yet  tolerated  in  any  consecrated  church,  but  only  against  law  in 
my  own  house."  In  January,  he  began  a  week-day  lecture  in  the 
chapel  of  a  brother  minister.  On  the  Lord's-days,  he  had  no  con- 
gregation of  his  own,  but  preached  occasionally  and  gratuitously 
where  he  was  invited.  The  next  spring  he  removed  his  family 
into  the  city,  ha\ing  resided  at  Totteridge  three  years. 

But  the  progi'ess  of  the  court  towards  arbitrary  power  had  rous- 
ed something  of  the  English  spirit,  even  in  that  degenerate  age. 
When  the  parliament  assembled,  corrupt  and  venal  as  it  was,  the 
declaration  of  indulgence  was  voted  illegal,  and  after  much  debat- 
ing and  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  administration,  was  finally 
given  up  by  the  king.  The  dissenters  themselves  were  known  to 
be  against  the  declaration.  One  of  the  representatives  of  the  city 
of  London,  speaking  in  the  name  of  the  nonconformists,  declared 
that  they  would  rather  not  have  their  liberty  than  have  it  at  the 
expense  of  the  constitution.  The  overthrow  of  the  declaration  was 
followed  by  the  Test  Act,  which,  though   leveled  against  the  de- 


LITK    OF    RICHARD    BAXJEU.  ^211 

Signs  of  the  court  and  the  CathoHcs,  bore  hard  on  the  interests  of 
Protestant  dissenters.  Yet  this  act,  the  dissenters,  in  their  zeal 
against  the  cominpn  enemy,  heartily  promoted  ;  trusting  that  the  par- 
liament would  immediately  honor  their  integrity,  and  relieve  tlieir 
burthens.  A  bill  for  their  relief  was  brought  into  the  house  of 
conmions  ;  but  was  defeated  by  the  united  management  of  the  court 
and  the  bishops. 

The  court,  seeing  that  the  Puritans  were  not  to  be  enticed  into  a 
conspiracy  against  the  constitution,  now  let  loose  upon  them  the 
whole  pack  of  informers,  and  determined  to  make  them  feel  the 
weiglrt  of  the  law.  A  number  of  infamous  persons  in  London  and 
elsewhere  followed  the  trade  of  informers,  and  shared  with  justices 
.  of  the  same  stamp  the  fines  imposed  on  dissenters  of  the  exercise- 
of  their  worship.  By  such  informers  and  magistrates,  Baxter  was 
persecuted  above  most  of  his  brethren.  He  had  now  relinquished 
all  preaching,  except  one  semion  each  week,  in  a  hall  over  St. 
James's  Market.  "  Most  of  the  congregationr  there,"  he  says, 
''  were  young  men  of  the  most  capable  age,  who  heard  with  very 
great  attention,  and  many,  that  had  not  come  to  church  of  many 
years,  received  so  much,  and  manifested  so  great  a  change  (some 
Papists  and  others  returning  public  thanks  to  God  for  their  con- 
version) as  made  all  my  charge  and  trouble  easy  to  me.  Among 
all  the  Popish,  rude  and  ignorant  people,  who  were  inhabitants  in 
those  parts,  we  had  scarce  any  that  opened  their  mouths  against 
us,  and  that  did  not  speak  well  of  the  preaching  of  the  word  among 
them  ;  though  when  I  fii'st  came  thither,  some  of  the  same  persons 
wished  my  death.  Among  the  ruder  sort,  a  common  reformation 
was  noticed  in  the  place."  While  laboring  in  this  humble  sphere, 
he  was  a  mark  for  the  malice  of  low  informers  and  persecuting 
justices.  Prosecution  was  heaped  on  prosecution  ;  but  he  escaped 
imprisonment,  and  while  he  was  permitted  to  go  at  large,  he  was 
resolved  to  pursue  his  work  of  preaching.  At  last  he  says,  '.'  I  was 
so  long  wearied  with  keeping  my  doors  shut  against  them  that  came 
to  distrain  on  my  goods  for  preaching,  that  1  was  fain  to  go  from 
my  house,  and  to  sell  all  my  goods,  and  to  hide  my  library  first,- 
and  afterwards  to  sell  it ;  so  that  if  books  had  been  my  treasure, 
(and  1  valued  little  more  on  earth,)  I  had  now  been  without  a  treas- 
ure. For  about  twelve  years,  I  was  driven  a  hundred  miles  from 
them  ;  and  when  I  had  paid  dear  for  the  carriage,  after  two  or  three 
years,  I  was  forced  to  sell  them.  The  prelates,  to  hinder  me  from 
preaching,  deprived  me  also  of  these  private  comforts ;  but  God 
saw  that  they  were  my  snare.  We  brought  nothing  into  this 
world,  and  we  must  carry  nothing  out.  The  loss  is  very  tol- 
erable." 

In  this  way  he  lived  for  several  years,  driven  fiom  one  refuge 


212  |J|^     LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

to  another,  having  no  certain  dwelling-place,  and  yet  preaching 
with  the  boldness  and  perseverance  of  a  martyr.  Once,  with  the 
aid  of  his  friends,  he  built  a  chapel.  But  after  preaching  there  a 
single  sermon,  he  was  obliged  to  flee  into  the  country  to  escape 
imprisonment.  When  he  attempted  to  occupy  it  again,  the  meet- 
ing was  repeatedly  broken  up  by  the  king's  drums  beating  under 
the  windows.  In  the  end,  he  was  glad  to  dispose  of  it  at  a  great 
pecuniary  sacrifice,  that  it  might  become  a  chapel  of  ease  to  the 
parish  within  which  it  was  built.  All  this  while  he  was  "  in 
deaths  oft,"  groaning  under  almost  incredible  anguish  as  his  com- 
plicated diseases  gained  on  his  declining  strength  :  and  yet  so  intense 
and  indefatigable  was  the  energy  of  his  mind,  he  was  producing 
volume  after  volume,  as  rapidly  as  if  he  had  been  a  man  of  per- 
fect health  and  unbroken  literary  leisure. 

In  1678,  the  jealousy  and  alarm  in  respect  to  Popery,  which  had 
loftg  been  rising,  and  for  which  the  proceedings  of  the  court  and 
of  the  Catholics  had  given  abundant  cause,  broke  out  into  a  sudden 
and  irresistible  panic.  The  whole  nation  was  thrown  into  a  fer- 
ment by  the  alledged  discovery  of  a  "  Popish  plot,"  the  purpose  of 
which  was  said  to  be  to  murder  the  king,  to  put  the  duke  of  York 
on  the  throne,  and  to  suppress  the  Protestant  heresy  by  fire  and 
sword.  That  the  Papists  were  at  that  time  extensively  consult- 
ing and  plotting  for  the  restoration  of  their  religion  in  Great  Britain, 
and  were  hoping  great  things  from  the  expected  succession  of  the 
duke  of  York,  who  was  one  of  them,  is  unquestionable.  That  the 
discoveries  of  Oates  and  others,  by  which  the  nation  was  thrown 
into  so  terrible  a  panic,  were  false,  is  equally  beyond  dispute. 
But  such  was  the  excitement  of  all  sorts  of  people,  that  many 
Papists  of  distinction,  priests  and  laymen,  were  put  to  death  under 
the  forms  of  law  for  a  supposed  participation  in  the  "  bloody  and 
hellish  plot."  In  connection  with  this  excitement,  a  desperate 
effort  was  made  in  parliament  to  secure  the  liberties  and  Prot- 
estant religion  of  the  nation,  by  excluding  the  duke  of  York  from 
his  succession  to  the  crown.  This  emergency  united  in  one 
■phalanx  the  more  moderate  and  liberal  members  of  the  established 
church  and  the  Protestant  dissenters.  Several  parliaments  endeavor- 
ed the  relief  of  the  persecuted  Protestants  ;  but  the  bishops  in  the 
house  of  lords  generally  voted  against  such  measures,  and  the  king 
was  willing  to  have  a  body  of  men  so  uncompromising  still  at  his 
mercy.  The  persecution  still  went  on,  with  occasional  intervals  of 
partial  repose,  till  the  death  of  the  king  in  1685. 

James  II.,  a  professed  and  bigoted  Papist,  succeeded  to  the 
throne;  and  though  at  first  all  was  tranquillity  and  confidence,  as  is 
usual  with  the  English  people  at  the  accession  of  a  new  sovereign, 
soon  the  fears,  which  had  formerly  agitated  the  nation,  began  to 


LIFE    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER.  :2I.'J 

revive ;  and  it  was  evident  that  all  those  fears  were  now  to  be  re- 
alized. The  universities  and  the  great  body  of  the  clergy  still 
professed  the  utmost  obsequiousness,  and  preached,  as  they  had 
long  done,  the  doctrine  of  unlimited  obedience.  Encouraged  by 
such  demonstrations  of  loyalty,  James  went  on  the  more  rapidly 
and  madly  with  his  designs.  His  court  and  council  were  filled 
with  Papists ;  parliaments  were  dispensed  with ;  laws  were  set 
aside  by  the  royal  prerogative ;  and  a  government  in  all  respects 
arbitrary  was  attempted.  The  established  church  was  at  last  in- 
vaded. Some  important  livings  in  the  universities  and  elsewhere 
were  seized  by  the  king  for  the  Popish  priests.  On  such  an  occa- 
sion, nature  was  too  strong  for  principle ;  the  favorite  doctrine  of 
passive  obedience  was  forgotten ;  and  the  established  clergy  and 
the  king  were  arrayed  against  each  other.  The  king  had  now  no 
friends  but  the  Catholics ;  and  the  nation  was  ripe  for  revolution. 
Urged  by  many  invitations,  the  prince  of  Orange,  who  had  married 
James's  eldest  daughter,  invaded  the  kingdom ;  and  a  revolution 
was  effected  without  a  battle,  and  almost  without  bloodshed,  in 
1689.  James,  after  a  disgraceful  reign  of  four  years,  abdicated 
the  crown  by  flight,  and  was  succeeded  by  William  and  Mary. 

The  concluding  part  of  Baxter's  Narrative  of  his  own  life  and 
times,  is  mostly  occupied  with  notices  of  the  state  of  public  affairs 
during  the  latter  years  of  Charles's  reign,  and  at  the  accession  of 
James  to  the  throne.  The  fi'iends  and  associates  of  his  earlier 
years  were  departing  in  rapid.succession  to  the  "  everlasting  rest." 
His  wife,  who  had  for  twenty  years  cheered  him  with  affectionate 
and  cheerful  assiduity  under  his  many  afflictions,  died  on  the  14th 
of  June,  1681.  Thus  left  alone  in  his  old  age,  with  infirmities  and 
pains  upon  him,  the  recital  of  which  would  be  distressing,  he  was 
still  followed  by  his  persecutors.  On  the  24th  of  August,  1682, 
just  twenty  years  after  the  ejection,  he  preached  in  great  weakness, 
and,  expecting  to  preach  no  more,  "  took  his  leave  of  the  pulpit 
and  public  work  in  a  thankful  congregation."'  "But  after  this," 
he  says,  "  when  I  had  ceased  preaching,  I  was  suddenly  surprised 
by  a  poor,  violent  informer,  and  many  constables  and  oiiicers,  who 
had  rushed  in,  apprehended  me,  and  served  on  me  one  warrant  to 
seize  on  my  person  for  coming  within  five  miles  of  a  corporation, 
and  five  more  warrants  to  distrain  for  a  hundred  and  ninety  pounds 
for  five  sermons.  They  cast  my  servants  into  fears,  and  were  about 
to  take  all  my  books  and  goods,  when  L  contentedly  went  with 
them  towards  the  justice  to  be  sent  to  jail,  and  left  my  house  to 
their  will.  Btu  Dr.  Thomas  Cox,  meeting  me,  forced  me  in  again 
to  my  couch  and  bed,  and  went  to  five  justices,  and  took  his  oath, 
without  my  knowledge,  that  I  could  not  go  to  prison  without  dan- 
ger of  death.     On  that  the  justices  delayed  a  day,  till  they  could 


514 


LIFE    or    RICHARD    BAXTER. 


speak  with  the  king,  and  told  him  what  the  doctor  had  sworn :  so 
the  king  consented  that,  for  the  present,  imprisonment  should  be 
forborne,  that  I  might  die  at  home.  But  they  executed  all  their 
warrants  on  my  books  and  goods,  even  the  bed  that  I  lay  sick  on, 
and  sold  them  all.  Some  friends  paid  them  as  much  money  as 
they  were  prized  at,  which  I  repaid,  and  was  fain  to  send  them 
away." 

"  The  separation  from  my  books  would  have  been  a  greater  part 
of  my  small  affliction,  but  that  I  found  I  was  near  the  end  both  of 
that  work  and  that  life  which  needeth  books,  and  so  I  easily  let  go 
all.  Naked  came  I  into  the  world,  and  naked  must  I  go  out. 
But  I  never  wanted  less  what  man  can  give,  than  when  men  had 
taken  all.  My  old  friends,  and  strangers,  were  so  liberal,  that  I 
was  fain  to  restrain  their  bounty.  Their  kindness  was  a  surer  and 
larger  revenue  to  me  than  my  own.  But  God  was  pleased  quick- 
ly to  put  me  past  all  fear  of  men,  and  all  desire  of  avoiding  suffer- 
hig  from  them  by  concealment,  by  laying  on  me  more  himself  than 
man  can  do.  Then  imprisonment,  with  tolerable  health,  would 
have  seemed  a  palace  to  me ;  and  had  they  put  me  to  death  for 
such  a  duty  as  they  persecute  me  for,  it  would  have  been  a  joyful 
end  of  my  calamity :  but  day  and  night  I  groan  and  languish  under 
God's  just  afflicting  hand.  The  pain  which  before  only  tired  my 
reins,  and  tore  my  bowels,  now  also  fell  upon  my  bladder,  and 
scarce  any  part,  or  hour,  is  free.  As  waves  follow  waves  in  the 
tempestuous  seas,  so  one  pain  foUoweth  another  in  this  sinful,  mis- 
erable flesh.  I  die  daily,  and  yet  remain  alive.  God,  in  his  great 
mercy,  knowing  my  dullness  in  health  and  ease,  doth  make  it  much 
easier  to  repent  and  hate  my  sin,  loathe  myself,  contemn  the  world, 
and  submit  to  the  sentence  of  death  with  willingness,  than  otherwise 
it  was  ever  likely  to  have  been.  O,  how  little  is  it  that  wrathful 
enemies  can  do  against  us,  in  comparison  of  what  our  sin  and  the 
justice  of  God  can  do !  and,  O,  how  little  is  it  that  the  best  and 
kindest  of  friends  can  do  for  a  pained  body,  or  a  guilty,  sinful  soul, 
in  comparison  of  one  gracious  look  or  word  from  God  !  Wo  be  to 
him  that  hath  no  better  help  than  man :  and  blessed  is  he  whose 
help  and  hope  are  in  the  Lord !  "* 

In  1684,  he  was  again  apprehended.  Expecting  to  be  impris- 
oned for  residing  in  London,  he  refused  to  open  his  chamber  door, 
the  officers  having  no  warrant  to  enter  by  violence ;  but  six  offi- 
cers besieged  his  study^  watching  all  night,  and  keeping  him  from 
his  bed  and  food,  till  on  the  second  day  he  surrendered,  and  scarce- 
ly able  to  stand,  was  carried  to  the  sessions  and  "  bouiid  in  four  hun- 
dred, pounds  bond  to  his  good  behavior."     He  desired  to  know 

"  Narrative,  Part  III.  pp.  191,  192. 


LIFE    OF   RICHARD    BAXTER.  2I5 

what  his  crime  was ;  and  was  told  that  he  was  thus  deak  with  only 
to  secure  the  government  in  evil  times,  and  "  that  they  had  a  list 
of  many  suspected  persons  whom  they  must  do  the  like  with." 
The  same  process  was  repeated  thrice  in  the  course  of  a  few 
months.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  Dec.  11th,  he  was  told  that 
the  main  object  was  to  restrain  him  from  writing. 

On  the  28th  of  February  following,  a  few  days  after  the  acces- 
sion of  James,  he  was  committed  to  prison  by  a  warrant  from  the 
infamous  Chief  Justice  JefFeries,  for  his  Paraphrase  on  the  New 
Testament,  then  just  published,  which  was  denominated  a  scanda- 
lous and  seditious  book  against  the  government.  On  the  18th  of 
May,  his  counsel,  on  account  of  his  illness,  moved  that  his  trial 
might  be  postponed.  "  I  will  not  give  him  a  minute's  time  more, 
to  save  his  life,"  was  the  answer  of  the  chief  justice.  On  the 
30th,  he  came  to  his  trial  in  Guildhall.  Eminent  counsel  had  been 
employed  in  his  behalf  by  his  friends.  But  the  arbitrary  and  bmtal 
chief  justice  would  allow  no  argument  to  be  made  in  his  defense. 
One  after  another,  of  those  who  attempted  to  speak,  was  interrupted 
and  overborne  by  the  violence  of  the  bench.  The  coarsest  and 
most  rabid  abuse  was  heaped  on  the  prisoner.  At  last.  Baiter 
himself  offered  to  speak.  '•'  My  lord,"  said  he,  "  I  think  I  can 
clearly  answer  all  that  is  laid  to  my  charge,  and  I  shall  do  it  briefly.. 
The  sum  is  contained  in  these  few  papers,  to  which  I  shall  add  a 
little  by  testimony."  But  not  a  word  would  the  judge  hear ;  and 
the  witnesses,  who  -had  been  cited  in  behalf  of  the  prisoner,  were 
prevented  from  testifying.  At  length  JefFeries  summed  up  the 
cause,  in  the  same  style  in  which  he  had  conducted  it.  "Does 
your  lordship  think,"  said  Baxter,  "  that  any  jury  will  pretend  tO' 
pass  a  verdict  upon  me,  on  such  a  trial  ?  "  "  I'll  warrant  you,  Mr. 
Baxter,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  don't  trouble  yourself  about  that."  The 
jury  immediately  laid  their  heads  together,  and  found  him  guilty. 
He  was  fined  five  hundred  marks,  condenmed  to  lie  in  prison  till 
he  paid  it,  and  bound  to  his  good  behavior  for  seven  years.* 

Nearly  two  years  afterwards,  James,  having  found  that  the  es- 
tablished clergy  would  not  stand  by  their  favorite  doctrine  of  obe- 
dience, undertook  once  more  to  court  the  dissenters.  Many  who 
were  imprisoned  were  set  at  liberty.  Among  these  was  Baxter. 
His  fine  was  remitted ;  but  he  was  still  under  bonds  for  his  good 
behavior,  it  being  expressly  stipulated  that  he  might  continue  to  re- 
side in  London.     He  was  released  November  24,  1686. 

Soon  afterwards  the  king,  pursuing  his  mad  project,  published  a 


*  An  account  of  this  trial  is  given  in  Calamy's  Life  of  Baxter,  and  is  copied, 
with  some  authentic  additions,  by  Onne.  Baxter's  own  Narrative  terminates! 
just  before  the  dale  of  liis  arrest. 


-  216  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

h 

declaration,  stronger  than  that  on  which  Charles  had  ventured  In 
1672,  offermg  the  most  unlimited  religious  liberty,  and  suspending 
all  the  laws  against  any  sort  of  dissenters.  Some  of  the  ministers 
united  in  addresses  of  thanks  for  this  liberty,  but  Baxter  and  many 
of  his  brethren  stood  aloof,  lest  they  should  seem  to  approve  so 
manifest  an  usurpation.  None,  however,  scrupled  to  enjoy  the 
m  liberty  while  it  lasted.     Baxter,  though  in  his  seventy-second  year, 

resumed  once  more  his  public  labors,  assisting  his  friend  Mr.  Syl- 
vester in  the  charge  of  a  congregation.  Four  years  and  a  half,  he 
preached  once  every  Lord's-day,  and  once  on  every  other  Thurs- 
day. After  his  growing  diseases  had  disabled  him  from  preaching, 
he  was  wont  to  open  his  doors  every  morning  and  evening,  for  all 
that  would  worship  with  him  in  his  family.  He  continued  to  write 
and  publish  after  all  his  other  labors  were  at  an  end. 

And  here  the  catalogue  of  his  publications  may  be  brought  down 
from  the  year  1665*  to  the  end. 

53.  "  The  Reasons  of  the  Christian  Religion.  The  First  Part, 
of  Godliness ;  proving  by  natural  Evidence  the  Being  of  God,  the 
Necessity  of  Holiness,  and  a  future  Life  of  Retribution,  &c.  The 
Second  Part,  of  Christianity ;  proving  by  Evidence,  supernatural 
and  natural,  the  certain  Tmth  of  the  Christian  Belief,  and  answer- 
ing the  Objections  of  Unbelievers."  4to.  published  in  1667.  This 
is  a  systematic  and  elaborate  work  of  six  hundred  pages. 

54.  "  Directions  for  weak,  distempered  Christians,  to  grow  up 
to  a  confirmed  State  of  Grace ;  with  Motives  opening  the  lamenta- 
ble Effects  of  their  Weaknesses  and  Distempers."  8vo.  1668. 

55.  '^'  The  Character  of  a  sound  confirmed  Christian  ;  as  also  of 
a  weak  Christian,  and  of  a  seeming  Christian."  8vo.  published  in 
1669. 

56.  "  The  Life  of  Faith ;  in  three  Parts."  4to.  published  in 
1670.  The  first  part  of  this  work  is  his  semion  formerly  preached 
before  the  king,  with  large  additions.  The  other  two  parts  are 
instructions  and  directions  on  the  same  subject.  The  whole  is  a 
volume  of  more  than  five  hundred  pages. 

57.  "  The  Cure  of  Church  Divisions."  8vo.  published  in  1671. 

58.  "  Defense  of  the  Principles  of  Love,  which  are  necessary 
to.  the  Unity  and  Concord  of  Christians,  and  are  delivered  in  a 
Book  called  The  Cure  of  Church  Divisions.  By  Richard  Baxter, 
one  of  the  Mourners  for.  a  self-dividing  and  self-afflicting  Land." 
8vo.  published  in  1671.  The  Cure  of  Church  Divisions  was 
thought  by  many  nonconformists  to  reflect  unjustly  on  them  and 
their  cause ;  and  on  that  account  it  was  severely  handled  by  some 
of  them,  and  particularly  by  Edward  Bagshaw,  an  Independent, 

*  See  pp.  \?i,  1P(5. 


LIFE  OF  HICHARD  BAXTER.  217 

of  a  wai-m  and  hasty  spirit.     To  his  '•'  Antidote,"  Baxter  replied 
in  this  "  Defense." 

59.  "  The  Divine  Appointment  of  the  Lord's-Day  proved,  as  a 
separated  Day  for  holy  Worship,  especially  in  Church- Assemhlies ; 
and  consequently  the  Cessation  of  the  seventh-day  Sabbath."  8vo. 
published  in  1671. 

60.  "  The  Duty  of  Heavenly  Meditation  reviewed,  in  answer 
to  the  Exceptions  of '  Mr.  Giles  Firmin."  4to.  1671.  This 
pamphlet  was  a  reply  to  a  brother  who  had  animadverted  gently 
on  some  passages  in  the  Saint's  Rest. 

61.  "How  far  Holiness  is  the  Design  of  Christianity."  4to.  a 
pamphlet,  published  in  1671. 

62.  "  God's  Goodness  vindicated,"  &c.   12mo.   1671. 

63.  "  A  second  Admonition  to  Mr.  Edward  Bagshaw,  written  to 
call  him  to  Repentance,  &c."  4to.  published  in  1671. 

64.  "  More  Reasons  for  the  Christian  Religion,  and  no  Reasons 
against  it."  12mo.  publislifid  in  1672.  This  was  an  Appendix 
to  the  work  numbered  53. 

65.  "  The  Church  told  of  Mr.  Edward  Bagshaw's  Scandal,  and 
warned  of  the  dangerous  Snares  of  Satan  now  laid  for  them  in  his 
love-killing  Principles."  4to.  published  in  1672.  This  was  the 
end  of  the  controversy.  Bagshaw,  long  a  sufferer  in  the  cause  of 
righteousness  and  liberty,  whom  his  opponent  characterizes  as  a 
man  of  a  Roman  spirit,  died,  a  prisoner,  just  as  this  pamphlet 
came  from  the  press ; — a  circumstance  which  Baxter  records  as 
one  that  gave  him  great  pain. 

66.  "  A  Christian  Directory  ;  'or,  A  Sum  of  Practical  Theology, 
and  Cases  of  Conscience,"  etc.  folio,  1673.  This  work  was 
written  in  1664  and  1665.  In  the  recent  octayo  edition,  it  fills 
five  large  volumes. 

'  67.  "The  Poor  Man's  Family  Book."  8vo.  published  in  1674. 
68.  "  Catholic  Theology — plain,  pure,  peaceable  :  for  Pacifica- 
tion of  the  dogmatical  Word-warriors  ;  who,  by  contending  about 
things  unrevealed,  or  not  understood,  and  "by  putting  verbal  Dif- 
ferences for  real,  and  their  arbitrary  Notions  for  necessary  sacred 
Truths,  deceived  and  deceiving  by  ambiguous,  unexplained  Words, 
have  long  been  the  Shame  of  the  Christian  Religion,  a  Scandal 
and  hardening  to  Unbelievers,  the  Incendiaries,  Dividers,  and 
Distracters  of  the  Church ;  the  Occasion  of  State  Discords  and 
Wars ;  the  Corrupters  of  the  Christian  Faith,  and  the  Subverters 
of  their  own  Souls,  and  those  of  their'  Followers ;  calling  them  to 
a  blind  Zeal  and  wrathful  Warfare  against  true  Piety,  Love,  and 
Peace,  and  teaching  them  to  censure,  backbite,  slander  and  prate 
against  each  other,  for  things  which  they  never  understood.  In 
Three  Books.  I.  Pacifying  Principles  about  God's  Decrees, 
VOL.  I.  28 


218  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER. 

Foreknowledge,  Providence,  Operations,  Redemption,  Grace, 
Man's  Power,  Free-will,  Justification,  Merits,  Certainty  of  Salva- 
tion, Perseverance,  he.  II.  A  Pacifying  Praxis,  or  Dialogue 
about  the  Five  Articles,  Justification,  k.c.,  proving  that  Men  here 
contend  almost  only  about  ambiguous  Words  and  unrevealed 
Things.  III.  Pacifying  Disputations  against  some  real  Errors 
which  hinder  Reconciliation,  viz.,  about  physical  Predeterminations, 
original  Sin,  the  Extent  of  Redemption,  sufficient  Grace,  Imputa- 
tion of  Righteousness,-  he.  Written  chiefly  for  Posterity,  when 
sad  Experience  hath  taught  Men  to  hate  theological  Wars,  and  to 
love,  and  seek,  and  call  for  Peace."  folio,  1675. 

69.  "  More  Proofs  of  Infants'  Church-membership,  and  conse- 
quently their  Rights  to  Baptism  ;  or  a  second  Defense  of  our  Infanf 
Rights  and  Mercies."  8vo.  published  in  1675.  This  was  the  re- 
vival of  his  old  Dispute  with  Mr.  Torabes.     See  p.  122. 

70.  "  Two  Disputations  of  Original  Sin."   12mo.   1675. 

71.  "Treatise  of  Justifying  Righteousness."   8vo.  1676. 

72.  Omitting,  for  the  present,  any  mention  of  a  large  class  of 
controversial  writings,  which  occupied  much  of  his  time,  we  notice 
next  a  small  tract,  published  in  1676,  entitled  "  Reasons  for  Min- 
isters' using  the  greatest  Plainness,"  etc. 

73.  "Review  of  the  State  of  Christian  Infants."    8vo.  1676. 

74.  "  A  Moral  Prognostication ;  first,  What  shall  befall  the 
Churches  on  Earth,  till  their  Concord  by  the  Restitution  of  their 
primitive  Purity,  Simplicity  and  Charity :  secondly.  How  that  Res- 
titution is  likely  to  be  made,  if  ever,  and  what  shall  befall  them 
thenceforth  unto  the  End,  in  that  golden  Age  of  Love."  4to.  pub- 
lished in  1680.     This  work  was  written  in  1661. 

75.  "  Poetical  Fragments :  Heart  Employment  with  God  and 
itself.  The  concordant  Discord  of  a  broken  healed  Heart ;  sorrow- 
ing, rejoicing,  fearing,  hoping,  living,  dying."   12mo.   1681.  ' 

76.  "  Methodus  Theologias  Christianae,  Naturae  Rerum  congrua, 
Sacrae  Scripturae  conformis,  Praxi  adaptata,"  etc.  folio,  1681. 
There  could  hardly  haVe  been  a  more  striking  illustration  of  the 
versatility  of  Baxter's  talents,  than  the  fact  that  the  same  year  wit- 
nessed the  publication  of  his  Methodus  Theologiae,  and  his  Poetical 
Fragments ;  the  one  (nearly  900  pages)  full  of  all  the  logic,  learn- 
ing, and  metaphysics  of  the  schoolmen ;  the  other  (as  insignificant 
in  bulk  as  any  modern  volume  of  poems)  containing  some  truly 
beautiful  specimens  of  devotional  poetry. 

77.  "  A  Breviate  of  the  Life  of  Mrs.  Margaret  Baxter,  with 
some  Account  of  her  Mother,  Mrs.  Hanmer."  4to.   1681. 

78.  "  Of  the  Immortality  of  Man's  Soul ;  and  of  the  Nature  of 
it,  and  of  other  Spirits."   12rao.   1682. 

79.  "  Compassionate  Counsel  to  all  Young   Men ;   especially 


^ 


,       LfFE'OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.  '219 

London  Apprentices  ;  Students  of  Divinity,  Physic  and  Law  ;  and 
the  Sons  of  Magistrates  and  rich  Men."   12mo.   1682. 

80.  "  The  Catechising  of  Families :  A  Teacher  of  Household- 
ers how  to  teach  their  Households,"  etc.  8vo.  published  in  1683. 
This  is  a  large  catechism  of  nearly  three  hundred  pages. 

81.  "Additions  to  the  Poetical  Fragments;  written  for  himself, 
and  communicated  to  such  as  are  more  for  serious  Verse  than 
smooth."  12mo.  published  in  1683. 

82.  "  Obedient  Patience :  its  Nature  in  general,  and  its  Exer- 
cise," etc.  8vo.  published  in  1683. 

83.  "  Mr.  Baxter's  Dying  Thoughts  upon  Philippians  i.  23," 
etc.  8vo.  published  in  1683. 

84.  "  The  one  Thing  necessary ;  or  Christ's  Justification  of 
Mary's  Choice,"  etc.  8vo.  1685. 

85.  "  Paraphrase  on  the  New  Testament,  with  Notes,"  etc.  4to. 
1685.  This  book — for  which  the  author  suffered  so  much — was 
designed  as  a  Family  Expositor. 

86.  "  A  Treatise  of  Knowledge  and  Love  compared.  In  Two 
Parts :  L  Of  falsely  pretended  Knowledge.  H.  Of  true  saving 
Knowledge  and  Love.  L  Against  hasty  Judging,  and  false  Con- 
ceits of  Knowledge ;  and  for  necessary  Suspension.  H.  The  Ex- 
cellency of  Divine  Love,  and  the  Happiness  of  beuig  known  and 
loved  of  God.  Written  as  greatly  needful  to  the  Safety  and  Peace 
of  every  Christian,  and  of  the  Church  ;  the  only  certain  Way  to 
escape  false  Religions,  Heresies,  Sects,  and  malignant  Prejudices, 
Persecutions  and  sinful  Wars ;  all  caused  by  falsely-pretended 
Knowledge,  and  hasty  Judging  by  proud,  ignorant  Men,  who  know- 
not  their  Ignorance.  By  Richard  Baxter ;  who,  by  God's  Bless- 
ing on  long  and  hard  Studies,  hath  learned  to  know  that  he  know- 
eth  but  little,  and  to  suspend  his  Judgment  of  Uncertainties,  and  to 
take  great,  necessary,  certain  things,  for  the  Food  of  his  Faith  and 
Comforts,  and  the  Measure  of  his  Church  Communion."  4to.  1689. 

87.  "  Cain  and  Abel  Malignity,  that  Is,  Enmity  to  serious  God- 
liness, that  is  to  a  holy  and  heavenly  State  of  Heart  and  Life  ;  la- 
mented, described,  detected,  and  unanswerably  proved  to  be  the 
devilish  Nature ;  and  the  Militia  of  the  Devil  against  God,  and 
Christ,  and  the  Church  and  Kingdoms ;  and  the  surest  Sign  of  a 
State  of  Damnation."  8vo.   1689^ 

88.  "  The  Scripture  Gospel  defended,  and  Christ,  Grace,  and 
free  Justification  vindicated  against  the  Libertines."  8vo.  1690. 
This  work  was  occasioned  by  a  new  breaking  out  of  the  Antino- 
mian  controversy. 

89.  "  An  End  of  Doctrinal  Controversies  which  have  lately 
troubled  the  Churches,  by  reconciling  Explication,  without  much 
Disputing."  8vo.  1691. 

90.  91.  In  1691,  he  published  two  pamphlets  in  opuosition  to 


220  LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.       , 

some  extravagances  then  broached,  by  an  unfortunate  interpreter 
of  the  Apocalypse. 

92.  "  Of  National  Churches ;  their  Description,  Institution," 
etc.  4to.  1691. 

93.  "  Richard  Baxter's  Penitent  Confession  and  Necessary 
Vindication."  4to.  1691. 

94.  "  The  Certainty  of  the  World  of  Spirits,  fully  evinced  by 
unquestionable  Histories  of  Apparitions,"  etc.  12mo.  1691.  When 
such  men  as  Matthew  Hale  and  Robert  Boyle  were  firm  believers 
of  the  doctrine  contained  in  this  volume,  a  similar  belief  can  by  no 
means  be  set  down  to  the  prejudice  of  Baxter's  intellect. 

95 — 103.  Between  1674  and  1682,  he  published  nine  separate 
sermons,  several  of  them  funeral  discourses,  and  few  of  them  infe- 
rior to  the  best  productions  of  any  other  preacher. 

104 — 111.  During  the  period  from  1671  to  1691,  he  produced 
eight  different  works  against  Popery  ;  some  of  them  light  tracts  to 
instruct  and  guard  the  uneducated  reader ;  and  some  elaborate 
treatises  for  men  of  learning. 

112 — 135.  His  publications  in  connection  with  the  great  contro- 
versy between  the  establishment  and  the  dissenters,  fi-om  the  year 
1676  to  the  end  of  his  life,  are  also  too  numerous  to  be  separately 
mentioned  here.  Twenty-three  different  pamphlets  and  volumes, 
some  of  them  among  his  most  labored  productions,  constitute  this 
series.  His  part  in  this  controversy  was  altogether  his  own.  On 
the  one  hand,  he  attempted  to  restrain  the  zeal  of  his  suffering 
brethren ;  and  on  the  other,  he  showed  himself  more  than  a  match 
for  the  most  learned  and  able  of  their  ecclesiastical  oppressors. 

136 — 140.  This  enumeration  may  be  carried  still  farther,  by 
adding  five  posthumous  volumes,  the  most  considerable  of  w'hich, 
entitled  "  Reliquis  Baxterianse  ;  Mr.  Richard  Baxter's  Narrative," 
etc.,  was  published  in  1696.  Another  was  a  metrical  "Paraphrase 
on  the  Psalms  of  David,  with  other  Hymns." 

We  have  followed  the  good  man  to  the  end  of  all  his  labors. 
After  having  seen  how  he  lived,  we  hardly  need  to  be  told  how  he 
died  ;  the  death  of  such  a  rnan  could  not  but  be  peace. 

With  what  temper  he  approached  tlie  final  hour,  may  be  seen 
from  a  letter  of  his  to  the  venerable  Increase  Mather  of  Boston, 
which,  though  dated  about  four  months  before  his  death,  was  doubt- 
less among  the  last  productions  of  his  pen.  The  book  referred  to 
is  Cotton  Mather's  Life  of  Eliot. 

"  Dear  Brother, 

"  I  thought  I  had  been  near  dying  at  twelve  o'clock  in  bed  ; 
but  your  book  revived  me ;  I  lay  reading  it  until  between  one  and 
two.     I  knew  much  of  Mr.  Eliot's  opinions,  by  many  letters  which 


LIFE    OP    RICHARD    BAXTER.  221 

I  had  from  him.  There  was  no  man  on  earth  whom  I  honored 
above  him.  It  is  his  evangehcal  work  that  is  the  apostoHcal  suc- 
cession which  I  plead  for.  I  am  now  dying,  I  hope,  as  he  did.  It 
pleased  me  to  read  from  him  my  case.  '  My  understanding  faileth, 
my  memory  faileth,  and  my  hand  and  pen  fail,  but  my  charity 
faileth  not.'  That  word  much  comforted  me.  I  am  as  zealous  a 
lover  of  the  New  England  churches  as  any  man,  according  to  Mr. 
Noyes',  Mr.  Nortons',  and  Mr.  Mitchel's,  and  the  Synod's  model. 
I  love  your  father  upon  the  letters  which  I  received  from  him.  I 
love  you  better  for  your  learning,  labors,  and  peaceable  moderation. 
I  love  your  son  better  than  either  of  you,  for  the  excellent  temper 
that  appeareth  in  his  writings.  O  that  godliness  and  wisdom  may 
increase  in  all  families.  He  hath  honored  himself  half  as  much 
as  Mr.  Eliot ;  I  say  half  as  much,  for  deeds  excel  words.  God 
preserve  you  and  New  England.  Pray  for  your  fainting,  languish- 
ing friend,  Ri.  Baxter." 
''^w^.  3,  1691."* 

The  sermon  at  Baxter's  funeral  was  preached,  as  he  had  him- 
self requested,  by  his  old  and  tried  friend.  Dr.  Bates.  Another 
sermon  on  the  same  occasion  was  preached  to  the  congregation  to 
which  he  had  last  ministered,  by  his  associate  in  the  ministry,  Syl- 
vester.   From  these  sermons  the  following  particulars  are  selected. 

"  He  continued  to  preach  so  long,"  says  Bates,  "  notwithstand- 
ing his  wasted,  languishing  body,  that  the  last  time  he  almost  died 
in  the  pulpit.  It  would  have  been  his  joy  to  have  been  transfigured 
in  the  mount.  Not  long  after,  he  felt  the  approaches  of  death,  and 
was  confined  to  his  sick  bed.  Death  reveals  the  secrets,  of  the 
heart ;  then  words  are  spoken  with  most  feeling  and  less  affec- 
tation. This  excellent  saint  was  the  same  in  his  life  and  death ; 
his  last  hours  were  spent  in  preparing  others  and  himself  to  appear 
before  God.  He  said  to  his  friends  that  visited  him,  '  You  come 
hither  to  learn  to  die  ;  I  am  not  the  only  person  that  must  go  this 
way.  I  can  assure  you  that  your  whole  life,  be  it  ever  so  long, 
is  little  enough  to  prepare  for  death.  Have  a  care  of  this  vain, 
deceitful  world,  and  the  lusts  of  the  flesh ;  be  sure  you  choose  God 
for  your  portion,  heaven  for  your  home,  God's  glory  for  your  end, 
his  word  for  your  rule,  and  then  you  need  never  fear  but  we  shall 
meet  with  comfort.' 

"Never  was  penitent  sinner  more  humble  and  debasing  himself, 
never  was  a  sincere  believer  more  calm  and  comfortable."  "  Many 
times  he  prayed,  '  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,'  and  blessed 
God  that  this  was  left  upon  recoi-d  in  the  gospel,  as  an  effectual 

**  Nonconformist's  Memorial,  Vol.  III.  p.  40G. 


^22  LIFE    OF    RICHARD   BAXTER. 

prayer.  He  said,  '  God  may  justly  condemn  me  for  the  best  duty 
1  ever  did ;  and  all  my  hopes  are  from  the  free  mercy  of  God  in 
Christ/  which  he  often  prayed  for." 

"  His  resigned  submission  to  the  will  of  God  in  his  sharp  sick- 
ness was  eminent.  When  extremity  of  pain  constrained  him  ear- 
nestly to  pray  to  God  for  his  release  by  death,  he  would  check 
himself;  '  It  is  not  fit  for  me  to  prescribe — ^when  thou  wilt,  what 
thou  wilt,  how  thou  wilt.' 

"Being  in  great  anguish,  he  said,  'Oh,  how  unsearchable  are 
his  ways,  and  his  paths  past  finding  out ;  the  reaches  of  his  provi- 
dence we  cannot  fathom  ! '  And  to  his  friends,  '  Do  not  thmk  the 
worse  of  religion  for  what  you  see  me  suffer.' 

"  Being  often  asked  by  his  friends,  how  it  was  with  his  inward 
man,  he  replied,  '  I  bless  God  I  have  a  well-grounded  assurance  of 
my  eternal  happiness,  and  great  peace  and  comfort  within.'  But 
it  was  his  trouble  he  could  not  triumphantly  express  it,  by  reason 
of  his  extreme  pains.  He  said,  '  Flesli  must  perish,  and  we  must 
feel  the  perishing  of  it ;  and  that  though  his  judgment  submitted, 
yet  sense  would  still  make  him  groan.' 

"  Being  asked  by  a  person  of  quality,  whether  he  had  not  great 
joy  from  his  believing  apprehensions  of  the  invisible  state,  he  re- 
plied, 'What  else,  think  you,  Christianity  serves  for?'  He  said, 
the  consideration  of  the  Deity  in  his  glory  and  greatness,  was  too 
high  for  our  thoughts ;  but  the  consideration  of  the  Son  of  God  in 
our  nature,  and  of  the  saints  in  heaven  whom  we  knew  and  loved, 
did  much  sweeten  and  familiarize  heaven  to  him.  The  description 
of  heaven,  in  Heb.  xii.  22,  was  most  comfortable  to  him  ;  '  that  he 
was  goijigto  the  innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  to  the  general 
assembly  and  church  of  the  first-bom,  whose  names  are  written  in 
heaven  ;  and  to  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant,  and 
to  the  blood  of  sprinkling,  which  speaketh  better  things  than  the 
blood  of  Abel.'  That  scripture,  he  said,  'deserved  a  thousand 
thousand  thoughts."  He  said,  '  Oh,  how  comfortable  is  that 
promise  ;  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  nor  hath  it  entered 
into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive,  the  things  God  hath  laid  up  for 
those  who  love  him ! ' 

"  At  another  time,  he  said,  that  he  found  great  comfort  and 
sweetness  in  repeating  the  Lord's  prayer,  and  was  sorry  some  good 
people  were  prejudiced  against  the  use  of  it,  for  there  were  all 
necessary  petitions  for  soul  and  body  contained  in  it. 

"  At  other  times,  he  gave  excellent  counsel  to  young  ministers 
that  visited  him, ;  and  earnestly  prayed  to  God  to  bless  their  laboi"s. 
and  make  them  very  successful  in  converting  many  souls  to  Christ : 
and  expressed  great  joy  in  the  hopes  that  God  would  do  a  great 


LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER,  223 

deal  of  good  by  them ;  and  ihat  they  were  of  moderate,  peaceful 
spirits. 

"  He  did  often  pray  that  God  would  be  merciful  to  this  misera- 
ble, distracted  world,  and  that  he  would  preserve  his  church  and 
interest  in  it.  He  advised  his  friends  to  beware  of  self-conceited- 
ness,  as  a  sin  that  was  likely  to  ruin  this  nation ;  and  said,  '  I  have 
written  a  book  against  it,  which  I  am  afraid  has  done  little  good.' 

"  Being  asked,  whether  he  had  altered  his  mind  in  controversial 
points,  he  said,  '  Those  that  please,  may  know  my  mind  in  my 
writings  ;  and  that  what  he  had  done  was  not  for  his  ovm  reputation, 
but  for  the  glory  of  God.' 

"  I  went  to  him,  with  a  very  worthy  friend,  Mr.  Mather,  of 
New  England,  the  day  before  he  died ;  and,  speaking  some  com- 
forting words  to  him,  he  replied,  '  I  have  pain  ;  there  is  no  arguing 
against  sense ;  but  I  have  peace,  I  have  peace.'  I  told  him,  '  You 
are  now  approaching  to  your  long-desired  home ; '  he  answered, 
'  1  believe,  I  believe.'  He  said  to  Mr.  Mather,  '  I  bless  God  that 
you  have  accomplished  your  business ;  the  Lord  prolong  your  life.' 

"  He  expressed  a  great  willingness  to  die ;  and  during  his  sick- 
ness, when  the  question  was  asked,  '  How  he  did  ? '  his  reply  was, 
'  Almost  ivelL'  His  joy  was  most  remarkable,  when,  in  his  own 
apprehensions,  death  was  nearest ;  and  his  spiritual  joy  was  at  length 
consummate  in  eternal  joy."* 

"While  pain  and  sickness  wasted  his  body,"  says  Sylvester, 
"his  soul  abode  rational,  strong  in  faith  and  hope,  arguing  itself 
into,  and  preserving  itself  in  that  patience,  hope  and  joy  through 
grace,  which  gave  him  great  support,  and  kept  out  doubts  and  fears 
concerning  his  eternal  welfare." 

"  Even  to  the  last,  I  never  could  perceive  his  peace  and  heavenly 
hopes  assaulted  or  disturbed.  I  have  often  heard  him  greatly 
lament  that  he  felt  no  greater  liveliness  in  what  appeared  so  great 
and  clear  to  him,  and  so  very  much  desired  by  him.  As  to  the 
influence  thereof  upon  his  spirit,  in  order  to  the  sensible  refresh- 
ments of  it,  he  clearly  saw  what  ground  he  had  to  rejoice  in  God ; 
he  doubted  not  of  his  right  to  heaven.  He  told  me  he  knew  it 
should  be  well  with  him  when  he  was  gone.  .  He  wondered  to  hear 
others  speak  of  their  sensible,  passionately  strong  desires  to  die, 
and  of  their  transports  of  spirit,  when  sensible  of  their  approach- 
ing death  ;  whereas  he  himself  thought  he  knew  as  much  as  they, 
and  had  as  rational  satisfaction  as  they  could  have  that  his  soul  vi'as 
safe,  and  yet  could  never  feel  their  sensible  consolations.  I  asked 
him  whether  much  ot  this  was  not  to  be  resolved  into  bodily  con- 
stitution ;  he  told  me  he  thought  it  might  be  so." 

*  Batess  Works,  Vol.  IV.  pp.  337,  340. 


224  .    LIFE    OP   RICHABD   BAXTER. 

"  On  Monday,  Dec.  7,  about  five  in  the  evening,  death  sent  his 
harbinger  to  summon  him  away.  A  great  trembling  and  coldnesis 
extorted  strong  cries  from  him,  for  pity  and  redress  from  heaven ; 
which  cries  and  agonies  continued  for  some  time,  till  at  length  he 
ceased,  and  lay  in  an  observant,  patient  expectation  of  his  change. 
Being  once  asked  by  his  faithful  friend,  and  constant  attendant  in 
his  weakness,  Mrs.  Bushel,  his  housekeeper,  whether  he  knew 
her  or  not,  requesting  some  sign  of  it  if  he  did,  he  softly  cried, 
*  Death,  death ! '  He  now  felt  the  benefit  of  his  former  prepara- 
tions for  the  trying  time.  The  last  words  that  he  spake  to  me,  on 
being  informed  that  I  was  come  to  see  him,  were,  '  Oh,  I  thank  him, 
I  thank  him,'  and  turning  his  eye  to  me,  he  said,  'The  Lord  teach 
you  how  to  die.'  " 

"  He  expired  on  Tuesday  morning,  About  four  o'clock,  Dec.  8, 
1691.  Though  he  expected  and  desired  his  dissolution  to  have 
been  on  the  Lord's-day  before,  which  with  joy,  to  me,  he  called  a 
high  day,  because  of  his  desired  change  expected  then  by  him."  • 
Sylvester  thus  describes  the  person  and  manners  of  his  venerable 
friend.  "  He  was  tall  and  slender,  and  stooped  much.  His  coun- 
tenance was  composed  and  grave,  somewhat  inclining  to  smile.  He 
had  a  piercing  eye,  a  very  articulate  speech,  and  his  deportment 
was  rather  plain  than  complimentary.  He  had  a  great  command 
over  his  thoughts,  and  had  that  happy  faculty,  according  to  the 
character  which  was  given  of  him  by  a  learned  man  dissenting  from 
him,  that  '  he  could  say  •  what  he  would,  and  he  could  prove  what 
he  said.'  He  was  pleasingly  conversable,  save  in  his  studying  hours, 
wherein  he  could  not  bear  with  trivial  disturbances.  He  was  spar- 
ingly facetious,  but  never  light  or  frothy.  He  was  unmovable 
where  apprehensive  of  his  duty,  yet  affable  and  condescending 
where  there  was  a  likelihood  of  doing  good.  His  personal  absti- 
nence, severities,  and  labors,  were  exceeding  great.  He  kept  his 
body  under,  and  always  feared  pampering  his  flesh  too  much."* 

"  His  prayers,"  says  Bates,  "  were  an  efiusion  of  the  most  lively, 
melting  expressions,  and  his  intimate,  ardent  affections  to  God ; 
from  the  '  abundance  of  the  heart  his  lips  spake.'  His  soul  took 
wing  for  heaven,  and  wrapt  up  the  souls  of  others  with  him.  Never 
did  I  see  or  hear  a  holy  minister  address  himself  to  God  with  more 
reverence  and  humility,  with  respect  to  his  glorious  greatness; 
never  with  more  zeal  and  fervency  correspondent  to  the  infinite 
moment  of  his  requests ;  nor  with  more  filial  affiance  in  the  divine 
mercy. 

"  In  his  sermons  there  was  a  rare  union  of  arguments  and  mo- 
tives to  convince  the  mind  and  gain  the  heait ;  all  the  fountains  of 

•  The  extracts  from  Sylvester's  Funeral  Serinoi)  are  on  the  authority  of  Orme. 


LIFE    OF    RICHARD    BAXTER.         .  225 

reason  and  persuasion  were  open  to  his  discerning  eye.  There  was 
no  resisting  the  force  of  his  discourses  without  denying  reason  and 
divine  revelation.  He  had  a  marvelous  felicity  and  copiousness  in 
speaking.  There  was  a  noble  negligence  in  his  style  ;  for  his  great 
mind  could  not  stoop  to  the  affected  eloquence  of  words :  he  de- 
spised flashy  oratory  ;  but  his  expressions  were  clear  and  powerful, 
so  convincing  the  understanding,  so  entering  into  the  soul,  so  en- 
gaging the  affections,  that  those  were  as  deaf  as  adders,  who  were 
not  '  charmed  by  so  wise  a  charmer.'  He  was  animated  with  the 
Holy  Spirit,  and  breathed  celestial  fire,  to  inspire  heat  and  life  into 
dead  sinners,  and  to  melt  the  obdurate  in  the  frozen  tombs.  Me- 
thinks  1  still  hear  him  speak  those  powerful  words :  '  A  wretch  that 
is  condemned  to  die  to-morrow  cannot  forget  it :  and  yet  poor  sin- 
ners, that  continually  are  uncertain  to  live  an  hour,  and  certain 
speedily  to  see  the  majesty  of  the  Lord  to  their  inconceivable  joy  or 
terror,  as  sure  as  they  now  live  on  earth,  can  forget  these  things 
for  which  they  have  their  memory  ;  and  which,  one  would  think, 
should  drown  the  matters  of  this  world,  as  the  report  of  a  cannon 
does  a  whisper,  or  as  the  sun  obscures  the  poorest  glow-worm.  Oh, 
wonderful  folly  and  distractedness  of  the  ungodly  1  That  ever 
men  can  forget,  I  say  again,  that  they  can  forget,  eternal  joy,  eternal 
wo,  and  the  eternal  God,  and  the  place  of  their  eternal,  unchange- 
able abodes,  when  they  stand  even  at  the  door ;  and  there  is  but  a 
thin  veil  of  flesh  between  them  and  that  amazing  sight,  that  eter- 
nal gulf,  and  they  are  daily  dying  and  stepping  in.'" 

"Though  all  divine  graces,  the  'fruit  of  the  Spirit,'  were  visible 
in  his  conversion,  yet  some  were  more  eminent.  Humility  is  to 
other  graces  as  the  morning-star  is  to  the  sun,  that  goes  before  it, 
and  follows  it  in  the  evening :  humility  prepares  us  for  the  receiving 
of  grace  :  'God  gives  grace  to  the  humble  ; '  and  it  follows  the  ex 
ercise  of  grace  ;  '  Not  1,'  says  the  jipostle,  '  but  the  grace  of  God  ii. 
me.'  In  Mr.  Baxter,  there  was  a  rare  union  of  sublime  knowledge, 
and  other  spiritual  excellences,  with  the  lowest  opinion  of  himself." 

"  Self-denial  and  contempt  of  the  world  were  shining  graces  in 
him.  I  never  knevvany  person  less  indulgent  to  himself,  and  more 
indifferent  to  his  temporal  interest.  The  offer  of  a  bishopric  was 
no  temptation  to  him ;  for  his  exalted  soul  despised  the  pleasures 
and  profits  which  others  so  earnestly  desire  ;  he  valued  not  an  empty 
title  upon  his  tomb." 

"  This  saint  was  tried  by  many  afflictions.  We  are  very  tender 
of  our  reputation:  his  name  was  obscured  under  a  cloud  of  detrac- 
tion. Many  slanderous  darts  were  thrown  at  him.  He  was  charg- 
ed with  schism  and  sedition.  He  was  accused  for  his  Paraphrase 
upon  the  New  Testament,  as  guilty  of  disloyal  aspersions  upon  the 
government,  and  condenmed,  unheard,  to  a  prison,  where  he  re- 
voL.  1.  29 


226  ,   LIFE  OF  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

mained  for  some  years.  But  he  was  so  far  from  being  moved  at 
the  unrighteous  prosecution,  that  he  joyfully  said  to  a  constant 
friend,  '  What  could  I  desire  more  of  God,  than  after  serving  him 
to  my  power  I  should  now  be  called  to  suffer  for  him  ?'  " 

"  But  his  patience  was  more  eminently  tried  by  his  continual 
pains  and  languishing.  Martyrdom  is  a  more  easy  way  of  dying, 
when  the  combat  and  the  victory  are  finished  at  once,  than  to  die 
by  degrees  every  day.  His  complaints  were  frequent,  but  who 
ever  heard  an  unsubmissive  word  drop  from  his  lips  ?  He  was  not 
put  out  of  his  patience,  nor  out  of  the  possession  of  himself  In  his 
sharp  pains,  he  said,  '  I  have  a  rational  patience,  and  a  believing 
patience,  though  sense  would  recoil.' 

"  His  pacific  spirit  was  a  clear  character  of  his  being  a  child  of 
God.  How  ardently  he  endeavored  to  cement  the  breaches  among 
us,  which  others  widen  and  keep  open,  is  publicly  known.  He 
said  to  a  friend,  '  I  can  as  willingly  be  a  martyr  for  love,  as  for  any 
article  of  the  creed.'  It  is  strange  to  astonishment,  that  those  who 
agree  in  the  substantial  and  great  points  of  the  reformed  religion, 
and  are  of  differing  sentiments  only  in  things  not  so  clear,  nor  of 
that  moment  as  those  wherein  they  consent,  should  still  be  opposite 
parties." 

"  Love  to  the  souls  of  men  was  the  peculiar  character  of  Mr. 
Baxter's  spirit.  In  this  he  imitated  and  honored  our  Saviour, 
who  prayed,  died  and  lives  for  the  salvation  of  souls.  All  his 
natural  and  supernatural  endowments  were  subservient  to  this  bless- 
ed end.  It  was  his  'meat  and  drink,'  the  life  and  joy  of  his  life, 
to  do  good  to  souls.  In  his  usual  conversation,  his  serious,  frequent 
and  delightful  discourse  was  of  divine  things,  to  inflame  his  friends 
with  the  love  of  heaven.  He  received  with  tender  compassion 
and  condescending  kindness,  the  meanest  that  came  to  him  for 
counsel  and  consolation.  He  gave  in  one  year  a  hundred  pounds 
to  buy  Bibles  for  the  poor.  He  has  in  his  will  disposed  of  all  that 
remains  of  his  estate,  after  the  legacies  to  his  kindred,  for  the  ben- 
efit of  the  souls  and  bodies  of  the  poor." 

Who  will  not  join  in  the  prayer  with  which  Bates  concludes  his 
sermon  ?  "  May  I  live  the  short  remainder  of  my  life  as  entirely 
to  the  glory  of  God  as  he  lived ;  and  when  I  shall  come  to  the 
period  of  my  life,  may  I  die  in  the  same  blessed  peace  wherein  he 
died  ;  may  I  be  with  him  in  the  kingdom  of  light  and  love  for- 
ever." 


RIGHT     METHOD 


A   SETTLED   PEACE   OF   CONSCIENCE, 


AND 


SPIRITUAL    COMFORT. 


IN  THIRTY-TWO  DIRECTIONS. 


«  God  is  love."  1  John  iv.  16. 

"  Come,  for  all  things  are  now  ready."    Luke  xiv.  17.  Mat.  xxii.  4. 


"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy-laden,  and  I  will  give 
you  rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me,  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls.  For  my  yoke  is 
easy,  and  my  burden  is  light."  Mat.  xi.  28. 

"  For  tlie  flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,  and  the  Spirit  against  the  flesh  : 
and  tliese  are  contrary  the  one  to  tlie  other  ;  so  that  ye  cannot  do  the  things 
that  ye  would."  Gal.  v.  17. 

"  Know  ye  not,  that  to  whom  ye  yield  yourselves  servants  to  obey,  liis 
servants  ye  are  to  whom  ye  obey  ;  whether  of  sin  unto  death,  or  of  obedi- 
ence unto  righteousness  ?  "  Rom.  vi.  16. 

"  Make  not  provision  for  the  flesh,  to  fulfill  the  lusts  thereof. " 

RoM.  xiii.  14. 

"  For  if  ye  live  after  the  flesh,  ye  shall  die :  but  if  ye  through  the  Spirit 
do  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body,  ye  shall  live."  Rom.  viii.  13. 

"  While  they  promise  them  liberty,  they  themselves  are  the  servants  of 
corruption ;  for  of  whom  a  man  is  overcome,  of  the  same  is  he  brought  in 
bondage."  •  2  Pet.  ii.  19. 

"  Thus  ye  speak,  saying,  If  our  transgressions  and  our  sins  be  upon  us, 
and  we  pine  away  in  them,  how  should  we  then  live .'  Say  unto  them,  As 
I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked, 
but  that  the  wicked  turn  from  his  way  and  live.  Turn  ye,  turn  ye  from 
your  evil  ways  ;  for  why  will  ye  die,  O  house  of  Israel  ?  " 

EzEK.  xxxiii.  10,  11. 

"  Now,  then,  we  are  ambassadors  for  Clirist,  as  though  God  did  beseech 
you  by  us  :  we  pray  you  in  Christ's  stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God." 

2  Cor.  v.  20. 

"  Trust  in  the  Lord,  and  do  good,  &c.  Delight  thyself  also  in  the  Lord, 
and  he  shall  give  thee  the  desires  of  thine  heart."  Ps.  xxxvii.  3,  4. 

Sound  doctrine  makes  a  sound  judgment,  a  sound  heart,  a  sound  conver- 
sion, and  a  sound  conscience. 


EPISTLE  DEDICATORY 


To  my  much  valued,  beloved,  and  honored  Friends,  Colonel  John 
Bridges,  ivith  Mrs.  Margaret  Bridges,  his  wife,  and  Mr. 
Thomas  Foley,  with  Mrs.  Anne  Foley,  his  wife. 

Though,  in  publishing  our  writings,  we  intend  them  for  the 
good  of  all,  yet  custom,  not  without  reason,  doth  teach  us,  some- 
times, to  direct  them  more  especially,  to  some.  Though  one  only 
had  the  original  interest  in  these  papers,  yet  do  I  now  direct  them 
to  you  all,  as  not  knowing  how  in  this  to  separate  you.  You 
dwell  together  in  my  estimation  and  affection ;  one  of  you  a  mem- 
ber of  the  church  which  I  must  teach,  and  legally  the  patron  of  its 
maintenance  and  minister;  the  other,  a  special  branch  of  that 
family  which  I  was  first  indebted  to  in  this  county.  You  lately 
joined  in  presenting  to  the  parliament  the  petition  of  this  county 
for  the  gospel  and  a  faithful  ministry.  When  I  only  told  you  of 
my  intention  of  sending  some  poor  scholars  to  the  university,  you 
freely  and  jointly  offered  your  considerable  annual  allowance  thereto, 
and  that  for  the  continuance  of  my  life,  or  their  necessities  there. 
I  will  tell  the  world  of  this,  whether  you  will  or  no ;  not  for  your 
applause,  but  for  their  imitation ;  and  the  shame  of  many,  of  far 
greater  estates,  that  will  not  be  drawn  to  do  the  like.  The  season 
somewhat  aggravates  the  goodness  of  your  works.  When  Satan 
hath  a  design  to  burn  up  those  nurseries,  you  are  watering  God's 
plants ;  when  the  greedy  mouth  of  sacrilege  is  gaping  for  their 
maintenance,  you  are  voluntarily  adding  for  the  supply  of  its  defect. 
Who  knows  how  many  souls  they  may  win  to  Christ  (if  God  shall 
send  them  forth  into  his  harvest)  whom  you  have  thus  assisted  ? 
And  what  an  addition  to  your  comfort  this  may  be !  When  the 
gospel  is  so  undermined,  and  the  ministry  so  maligned,  and  their 
maintenance  so  envied,  you  have,  as  the  mouth  of  this  county, 
appeared  for  them  all.  What  God  will  yet  do  with  us,  we  cannot 
tell ;  but  if  he  will  continue  his  gospel  to  us,  you  may  have  the 
greater  comfort  in  it.  If' he  will  remove  it,  and  forsake  a  proud, 
unworthy,  false-hearted  people,  yet  may  you  have  the  comfort  of 
your  sincere  endeavors ;  you  (with  the  rest  that  sincerely  furthered 


230  KPTSTLE    DEDICATORY. 

it)  may  escape  the  gnawings  of  conscience,  and  the  pubUc  curse 
and  reproach  which  the  history  of  this  age  may  fasten  upon  them, 
who,  after  all  their  engagements  in  blood  and  covenants,  would, 
either  in  ignorant  fury,  or  malicious  subtlety,  or  base,  temporizing 
cowardice,  oppugn  or  undermine  the  gospel,  or  in  perfidious  silence 
look  on  whilst  it  is  destroyed.  But  because  it  is  not  the  work  of 
a  flatterer  that  I  am  doing,  but  of  a  friend,  I  must  second  these 
commendations  with  some  caution  and  counsel,  and  tell  yourselves 
of  your  danger  and  duty,  as  I  tell  others  of  your  exemplary  deeds. 
Truly,  the  sad  experiences  of  these  times  have  much  abased  my 
confidence  in  man,  and  caused  me  to  have  lower  thoughts  of  the 
best  than  sometime  I  have  had.  I  confess  I  look  on  man  as  such 
a  distempered,  slippery,  and  inconstant  thing,  and  of  such  a  natural 
mutability  of  apprehensions  and  affections,  that,  as  I  shall  never 
more  call  any  man  on  earth  my  fi'iend,  but  with  a  supposition  that 
he  may  possibly  become  mine  enemy ;  so  I  shall  never  be  so  con- 
fident of  any  man's  fidelity  to  Christ,  as  not  withal  to  suspect  that 
he  may  possibly  forsake  him.  Nor  shall  I  boast  of  any  man's  ser- 
vice for  the  gospel,  but  with  a  jealousy  that  he  may  be  drawn  to  do 
as  much  against  it  (though  God,  who  knows  the  heart,  and  knows 
his  own  decrees,  may  know  his  sincerity,  and  foreknow  his  perse- 
verance.) Let  me  therefore  remember  you,  that,  had  you  expend- 
ed your  whole  estates,  and  the  blood  of  your  hearts,  for  Christ  and 
his  gospel,  he  will  not  take  himself  beholden  to  you.  He  oweth 
you  no  thanks  for  your  deepest  engagements,  highest  adventures, 
greatest  cost,  or  utmost  endeavors.  You  are  sure  beforehand  that 
you  shall  be  no  losers  by  him ;  your  seeming  hazards  increase 
your  security  ;  your  losses  are  your  gain ;  your  giving  is  your  re- 
ceiving ;  your  expenses  are  your  revenues ;  Christ  returns  the 
largest  usury.  The  more  you  do  and  sufl'er  for  him,  the  more  you 
are  beholden  to  him.  I  must  also  remember  you,  that  you  may 
possibly  live  to  see  the  day,  when  it  will  cost  you  dearer  to  show 
yourselves  faithful  to  the  gospel,  ordinances,  and  ministers  of  Christ, 
than  now  it  doth  ;  and  that  many  have  shrunk  in  greater  trials,  that 
passed  through  lesser  with  resolution  and  honor.  Your  defection 
at  the  last  would  be  the  loss  of  all  your  works  and  hopes.  If  any 
man  draw  back,  Christ  saith,  his  soul  shall  have  no  pleasure  in  him. 
Even  those  that  have  endured  the  great  fight  of  affliction,  being 
reproached,  and  made  a  gazing-stock,  and  that,  having  taken  joy- 
fully the  spoiling  of  their  goods,  in  assurance  of  a  better  and  en- 
during substance,  have  yet  need  to  be  warned  that  they  cast  not 
away  their  confidence,  and  draw  not  back  to  perdition,  and  lose  not 
the  reward  for  want  of  patience  and  perseverance ;  Heb.  x.  22.  to 
the  end.  That  you  may  escape  this  danger,  and  be  happy  for- 
ever, take  this  advice.     1.  Look  carefully  to  the  sincerity  of  your 


KPISTLE    DEOICATOKY.  231 

hearts,  in  the  covenant-closure  with  Christ.  See  that  you  take 
him,  with  the  happiness  he  hath  promised,  for  your  all.  Take 
heed  of  looking  after  another  felicity,  or  cherishing  other  hopes, 
or  esteeming  too  highly  any  thing  below.  Be  jealous,  and  very 
jealous,  lest  your  hearts  should  close  deceitfully  with  Christ,  main- 
taining any  secret  reserve  for  your  bodily  safety ;  either  resolving 
not  to  follow  him,  or  not  resolving  to  follow  him  through  the  most 
desolate,  distressed  condition  that  he  shall  lead  you  in.  Count 
what  it  may  cost  you  to  get  the  crown ;  study  well  his  precepts  of 
mortification  and  self-denial.  There  is  no  true  hopes  of  the  glory 
to  come,  if  you  cannot  cast  overboard  all  worldly  hopes  when  the 
storm  is  such  that  you  must  hazard  the  one.  O,  how  many  have 
thought  that  Christ  was  most  dear  to  them,  and  that  the  hopes  of 
heaven  were  their  chiefest  hopes,  who  have  left  Christ,  though 
with  sorrow,  when  he  bid  them  let  go  all  1  2.  Every  day  renew 
your  apprehensions  of  the  tmth  and  worth  of  the  promised  felicity, 
and  of  the  delusory  vanity  of  all  things  here  below :  let  not  heaven 
lose  with  you  its  attractive  force,  through  your  forgetfulness  or 
unbelief.  He  is  the  best  Christian  that  knows  best  why  he  is  a 
Christian,  and  he  will  most  faithfully  seek  and  suffer,  that  best 
knows  for  what  he  doth  it.  Value  not  wealth  and  honor  above  that 
rate,  which  the  wisest  and  best  experienced  have  put  upon  them, 
and  allow  them  no  more  of  your  affections  than  they  deserve.  A 
mean  wit  may  easily  discover  their  emptiness.  Look  on  all  present 
actions  and  conditions  with  a  remembrance  of  their  end.  Desire 
not  a  share  in  their  prosperity,  who  must  pay  as  dear  for  it  as  the 
loss  of  their  souls.  Be  not  ambitious  of  that  honor  which  must  end 
in  confusion,  nor  of  the  favor  of  those  that  God  will  call  enemies. 
How  speedily  will  they  come  down,  and  be  leveled  with  the  dust, 
and  be  laid  in  the  chains  of  darkness,  that  now  seem  so  happy  to 
the  purblind  world,  that  cannot  see  the  things  to  come  !  Fear  not 
that  man  who  must  shortly  tremble  before  that  God  whom  all  must 
fear.  3.  Be  more  solicitous  for  the  securing  of  your  consciences 
and  salvation,  than  of  your  honors  or  estates  ;  in  every  thing  that 
you  are  put  upon,  consult  first  with  God  and  conscience,  and  not 
with  flesh  and  blood.  It  is  your  daily  and  most  serious  care  and 
watchfulness  that  is  requisite  to  maintain  your  integrity  ;  and  not  a 
few  careless  thoughts  or  purposes  conjunct  with  a  minding  of  earthly 
things.  4.  Deal  faithfully  with  every  truth  which  you  receive. 
Take  heed  of  subjecting  it  to  carnal  interests ;  if  once  you  have 
affections  that  can  master  your  understandings,  you  are  lost,  and 
know  it  not.  For  when  you  have  a  resolution  to  cast  off  any  duty, 
you  will  first  believe  it  is  no  duty  ;  and  when  you  must  change  your 
judgment  for  carnal  advantages,  you  will  make  the  change  seem 
reasonable  and  right ;  and  evil  sliall  be  proved  good  when  you  have 


232  EPISTLE   DEDICATORY. 

a  mind  to  follow  it.  5.  Make  gospel-truths  your  own,  by  daily 
humble  studies,  arising  to  such  a  soundness  of  judgment,  that  you 
may  not  need  to  take  too  much  upon  trust,  lest,  if  your  guides 
should  miscarry,  you  miscarry  with  them.  Deliver  not  up  your 
undei-standing  in  captivity  to  any.  6.  Yet  do  not  overvalue  your 
own  understandings.  This  pride  hath  done  that  in  church  and 
state,  which  all  discerning  men  are  lamenting.  They  that  know 
but  little,  see  not  what  they  want,  as  well  as  what  they  have ;  nor 
that  imperfection  in  their  knowledge,  which  should  humble  them, 
nor  that  difficulty  in  things  which  should  make  them  diligent  and 
modest.  7.  Apprehend  the  necessity  and  usefulness  of  Christ's 
officers,  order,  and  ordmances,  for  the  prosperity  of  his  church : 
pastors  must  guide  you,  though  not  seduce  you,  or  lead  you  blind- 
fold. But  choose  (if  you  may)  such  as  are  judicious,  and  not 
ignorant ;  not  rash,  but  sober ;  not  formal,  but  serious  and  spiritual ; 
not  of  carnal,  but  heavenly  conversations :  especially  avoid  them 
that  divide  and  follow  parties,  and  seek  to  draw  disciples  to  them- 
selves, and  can  sacrifice  the  church's  unity  and  peace  to  their  proud 
humors  or  carnal  interests.  Watch  carefully  that  no  weaknesses  of 
the  minister  do  draw  you  to  a  disesteem  of  the  ordinances  of  God ; 
nor  any  of  the  sad  miscarriages  of  professors  should  cause  you  to 
set  less  by  truth  or  godliness.  Wrong  not  Christ  more,  because 
other  men  have  so  \\Tonged  him.  Quarrel  more  with  your  own 
unfitness  and  unworthiness  in  ordinances,  than  with  other  men's.  It 
is  the  frame  of  your  own  heart  that  doth  more  to  help  or  hinder 
your  comforts,  than  the  quality  of  those  you  join  with.  To  these 
few  directions,  added  to  the  rest  in  this  book,  I  shall  subjoin  my 
hearty  prayers,  that  you  may  receive  from  that  gospel  and  ministry 
which  you  have  owned,  such  stability  in  the  faith,  such  victory 
over  the  flesh  and  the  world,  such  apprehensions  of  the  love  of 
God  in  Christ,  such  direction  in  every  strait  and  duty,  that  you 
may  live  uprightly,  and  die  peaceably,  and  reign  gloriously.  Amen. 
Your  servant  in  the  faith  and  gospel  of  Christ, 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 
May  9,  1653. 


POOR   IN   SPIRIT 


My  dearly  beloved  fellow  Christians,  whose  souls  are  taken  up 
with  the  careful  thoughts  of  attaining  and  maintaining  peace  with 
God,  who  are  vile  in  your  own  eyes,  and  value  the  blood  and 
Spirit,  and  word  of  your  Redeemer,  and  the  hope  of  the  saints  in 
their  approaching  blessedness,  before  all  the  pomp  and  vanities  of 
this  world,  and  resolve  to  give  up  yourselves  to  his  conduct,  who 
is  become  "  the  author  of  eternal  salvation  to  all  them  that  obey 
him;"  for  you  do  1  publish  the  following  directions,  and  to  you  it 
is  that  I  direct  this  preface.  The  only  glorious  and  infinite  God, 
who  made  the  worlds,  and  upholdeth  them  by  his  word,  who  is  at- 
tended with  millions  of  his  glorious  angels,  and  praised  continually 
by  his  heavenly  hosts  ;  who  pulleth  down  the  mighty  from  their 
seats  and  scattereth  the  proud  in  the  imaginations  of  their  hearts, 
and  maketh  his  enemies  lick  the  dust ;  to  whom  the  kings  and  con- 
querors of  the  earth  are  as  the  most  silly  worms,  and  the  whole 
w^orld  is  nothing,  and  lighter  than  vanity,  which  he  will  shortly  turn 
into  flames  before  your  eyes  ; — this  God  hath  sent  me  to  you, 
with  that  joyful  message,  which  needs  no  more  but  your  believing 
entertainment,  to  make  it  sufficient  to  raise  you  from  the  dust,  and 
banish  those  terrors  and  troubles  from  your  hearts,  and  help  you 
to  live  like  the  sons  of  God.  He  cbmmandeth  me  to  tell  you,  that 
he  takes  notice  of  your  sorrows.  He  stalids  by  when  you  see  him 
not,  and  say,  he  hath  forsaken  you.  He  minds  you  with  the  great- 
est tenderness,  when  you  say,  he  hath  forgotten  you.  He  number- 
eth  your  sighs.  He  bottles  up  your  tears.  The  groans  of  your 
■  heart  do  reach  his  own.  He  takes  it  unkindly,  that  you  aresosus- 
picious  of  him,  and  that  all  that  he  hath  done  for  you  in  the  work 
of  redemption,  and  all  the  gracious  workings  of  his  Spirit  on  your 
souls,  and  all  your  own  peculiar  experiences  of  his  goodness,  can 
raise  you  to  no  higher  apprehensions  of  his  love !  Shall  not  love 
be  acknowledged  to  be  love,  when  it  is  grown  to  a  miracle?  when 
it  surpasseth  comprehension  I  Must  the  Lord  set  up  love  and 
mercy  in  the  work  of  redemption,  to  be  equally  admired  with  his 
omnipotency  manifested  in  the  creation  ?  and  call  forth  the  world 
VOL.    i'.  30 


234  TO    THE    POOR    IN    SPIRIT. 

to  this  sweet  employment,  that  in  secret  and  in  pubhc  it  might  bo 
the  business  of  our  hves  ?  And  yet  shall  it  be  so  overlooked  or  ques- 
tioned, as  if  you  lived  without  love  and  mercy  in  the  world?  Prov- 
idence doth  its  part,  by  heaping  up  mountains  of  daily  mercies  ; 
and  these  it  sets  before  your  eyes.  The  gospel  hath  eminently 
done  its  part  by  clearly  describing  them,  and  fully  assuring  them, 
and  this  is  proclaimed  frequently  in  your  ears.  And  yet  is  there 
so  little  in  your  hearts  and  mouths?  Do  you  see,  and  hear,  and 
feel  and  taste  mercy  and  love  ?  Do  you  live  wholly  on  it  ?  And 
yet  do  you  still  doubt  of  it  ?  and  think  so  meanly  of  it  ?  and  so  hard- 
ly acknowledge  it?  God  takes  not  this  well ;  lout  yet  he  consider- 
eth  your  frailty,  and  takes  you  not  at  the  worst.  He  knows  that 
flesh  will  j)lay  its  part,  and  the  remnants  of  corruption  will  not  be 
idle.  And  the  serpent  will  be  suggesting  false  thoughts  of  God, 
will  be  still  striving  most  to  obscure  that  part  of  his  glory  which  is 
dearest  to  him,  and  especially  which  is  most  conjoined  with  the  happi- 
ness of  man.  He  knows,  also,  that  sin  will  breed  sorrows  and 
fears  ;  and  that  man's  understanding  is  shallow,  and  all  his  con- 
ceivings of  God  are  exceeding  low ;  and  that  we  are  so  far  from 
God  as  creatures,  and  so  much  further  as  sinners,  and  especially  as 
conscious  of  the  abuse  of  his  grace,  that  there  must  needs  follow  such 
a  strangeness  as  will  damp  and  dull  our  apprehensions  of  his  love ; 
and  such  an  abatement  of  our  confidence,  as  will  make  us  draw 
back,  and  look  at  God  afar  off.  Seeing  therefore  that,  at  this  dis- 
tance, no  full  apprehensions  of  love  can  be  expected,  it  is  the 
pleasure  of  our  Redeemer  shordy  to  return  with  ten  thousand  of 
his  saints,  with  the  noble  aiTny  of  his  martyrs  and  the  attendance  of 
his  angels,  and  to  give  you  such  a  convincmg  demonstration  of  his 
love,  as  shall  leave  no  room  for  one  more  doubt.  Your  comforts 
are  now  but  a  taste  ;  they  shall  be  then  a  feast.  They  are  now  but 
intermittent;  they  shall  be  then  continual.  How  soon  now  do  your 
conquered  fears  return  ;  and  what  an  inconstancy  and  unevenness  is 
there  in  our  peace  !  BlU  then  our  peace  must  needs  be  perfect 
and  permanent,  when  we  shall  please  God,  and  enjoy  him  in  per- 
fection to  perpetuity.  Certainly,  Christians,  your  comforts  should 
be  now  more  abundant,  but  that  they  are  not  ripe.  It  is  that,  and 
not  this,  that  is  your  harvest.  I  have  told  you,  in  another  book, 
the  mistake  and  danger  of  expecting  too  much  here,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  looking  and  longing  for  that  rest,  if  we  will  have  peace  in- 
deed. But,  alas,  how  hard  is  this  lesson  learned !  Unbelievers 
would  have  happiness,  but  how  fain  would  they  have  it  in  the 
creature  rather  than  in  God !  Believers  would  rather  have  their 
happiness  in  God  than  in  the  creature,  but  how  fain  would  they 
have  it  without  dying  !  And  no  wonder,  for  when  sin  brought  in 
death,  even  grace  itself  cannot  love  h,  though  it  may  submit  to  it. 


TO    THK    POOR    IN    SPIRIT/  '-^35 

But  lliough  churlish  death  do  stand  in  our  way,  why  hiok  we  not 
at  the  soul's  admittance  into  rest,  and  the  body's  resurrection  that 
must  shortly  follow  ?  Doubtless  that  faith  by  which  we  are  justified 
and  saved,  as  it  sits  down  on  the  word  of  truth  as  the  present  ground 
of  its  confident  repose,  so  doth  it  thence  look  with  one  eye  back- 
ward on  the  cross,  and  the  other  forward  on  the  crown.  And  if 
we  well  observe  the  scripture  descriptions  of  that  faith,  we  shall  find 
them  as  frequently  magnifying  it,  and  describing  it  from  the  latter, 
as  from  the  former.  As  it  is  the  duty  and  glory  of  faith  to  look 
back  with  thankful  acknowledgment  to  a  crucified  Christ,  and  his 
payment  of  our  ransom,  so  it  is  the  duty  and  glory  of  that  same 
justifying  faith  to  look  forward  with  desire  and  hope  to  the  return 
of  king  Jesus,  and  the  glorious  celebration  of  the  marriage  of  the 
Lamb,  and  the  sentential  justification  and  the  glorification  of  his 
saints.  To  believe  these  things  unfeignedly,  which  we  never  saw, 
nor  ever  spoke  with  man  that  did  see,  and  to  hope  for  them  so 
really  as  to  let  go  all  present  forbidden  pleasures,  and  all  worldly 
hopes  and  seeming  happiness,  rather  than  to  hazard  the  loss  oi" 
them ;  this  is  an  eminent  part  of  that  faith  by  which  the  just  do 
live,  and  which  the  Scriptures  do  own  as  justifying  and  saving. 
For  it  never  distinguishes  between  justifying  faith,  as  to  their  nature. 
It  is  therefore  a  great  mistake  of  some,  to  look  only  at  that  one  eye 
of  justifying  faith  which  looks  back  upon  the  cross  ;  and  a  great 
mistake  of  them,  on  the  other  hand,  that  look  only  at  that  eye  of  it 
which  beholds  the  crown.  Both  Christ  crucified,  and  Christ  inter- 
ceding, and  Christ  returning  to  justify  and  glorify,  are  the  objects 
even  of  justifying,  saving  faith,  most  strictly  so  called.  The  Scrip- 
ture oft  expresseth  the  one  only,  but  then  it  still  implieth  the  other. 
The  Socinians,  erroneously,  therefore,  from  Heb.  xi.,  where  the  ex- 
amples and  eulogies  of  faith  are  set  forth,  do  exclude  Christ  cruci- 
fied, or  the  respect  to  his  satisfaction,  from  justifying  faith,  and  place 
it  in  a  mere  expectation  of  glory.  And  others  do  as  ungrounded- 
ly  affirm,  that  it  is  not  the  justifying  act  of  faith  which  Heb.  xi. 
describeth,  because  they  find  not  the  cross  of  Christ  there  mention- 
ed. For  as  believing  in  Christ's  blood  comprehendeth  the  end, 
even  the  expectation  of  remission  and  glory  merited  by  that  blood, 
so  the  believing  of  that  glory  doth  always  imply  that  we  believe 
and  expect  it  as  the  fruit  of  Christ's  ransom.  It  is  for  health  and 
life  that  we  accept  and  trust  upon  our  physician.  And  it  is  for 
justification  and  salvation  that  we  accept  and  trust  on  Christ.  The 
salvation  of  our  souls  is  the  end  of  our  faith.  Tliey  that  question 
whether  we  may  believe  and  obey  for  our  own  salvation,  do  ques- 
tion whether  we  may  go  to  the  physician,  and  follow  his  advice  for 
health  and  life.  Why,  then,  do  you,  that  are  believers,  so  much 
forget  the  end  of  your  faith,  and  that  for  which  it  is  that  vou  be- 


236  TO    THE    POOR    IN    SPIRIT. 

lieve  ?  Believing  in  Christ  for  present  mercies  only,  be  they  tem- 
poral or  spiritual,  is  not  the  true  believing.  They  are  dangerously 
mistaken  that  think  the  thoughts  of  heaven  to  be  so  acpidental  to 
the  nature  and  work  of  faith,  as  that  they  tend  only  to  our  comfort, 
and  are  not  necessary  to  salvation  itself,  it  is  upon  your  appre- , 
hensions  and  expectations  of  that  unseen  felicity  that  both  your 
peace  and  safety  do  depend.  How  contrary,  therefore,  is  it  to 
the  nature  of  a  believer,  to  forget  the  place  of  his  rest  and  consola- 
tion !  and  to  look  for  so  much  of  these  from  the  creatures,  in  this 
our  present  pilgrimage  and  prison,  as,  alas,  too  commonly  we  do ! 
Thus  do  we  kill  our  comforts,  and  then  complain  for  want  of  them. 
How  should  you  have  any  life  or  constancy  of  consolations,  that 
are  so  seldom,  so  slight,  so  unbelieving,  and  so  heartless,  in  your 
thoughts  of  heaven  !  You  know  what  a  folly  it  is  to  expect  any 
peace  which  shall  not  come  from  Christ  as  the  fountain.  And 
you  must  learn  as  well  to  understand  what  a  folly  it  is  to  expect 
any  solid  joys,  or  stable  peace,  which  is  not  fetched  from  heaven, 
as  from  the  end.  O  that  Christians  were  careful  to  live  with  one 
eye  still  on  Christ  crucified,  and  the  other  on  Christ  coming  in 
glory  I  If  the  everlasting  joys  were  more  in  your  believing  thoughts, 
spiritual  joys  would  more  abound  at  present  in  your  hearts.  It  is 
no  more  wonder  that  you  are  comfortless  when  heaven  is  forgotten, 
or  doubtingly  remembered,  than  you  are  faint  when  you  eat  not, 
or  cold  when  you  stir  not,  or  when  you  have  not  fire  or  clothes. 

But  when  Christians  do  not  only  let  fall  their  expectations  of  the 
things  unseen,  but  also  heighten  their  expectations  from  the  crea- 
ture, then  do  they  most  infallibly  prepare  for  their  fears  and  trou- 
bles, and  estrangedness  from  God,  and  with  both  hands  draw  calami- 
ties on  their  souls.  Who  ever  meets  with  a  distressed,  complaining 
soul,  where  one  or  both  of  these  is  not  apparent ;  their  low  ex- 
pectations from  God  hereafter,  or  their  high  expectations  from  the 
creature  now  ?  What  doth  keep  us  under  such  trouble  and  disquiet- 
ness,  but  that  we  will  not  expect  what  God  hath  promised,  or  we 
will  needs  expect  what  he  promised  not  ?  And  then  we  complain 
when  we  miss  of  those  expectations  which  we  foolishly  and  un- 
groundedly  raised  to  ourselves.  We  are  grieved  for  crosses,  for 
losses,  for  wrongs  from  our  enemies,  for  unkind  or  unfaithful  deal- 
ings of  our  friends,  for  sickness,  for  contempt  and  disesteem  in  the 
world  !  But  who  bid  you  look  for  any  better  ?  Was  it  prosperity, 
and  riches,  and  credit,  and  friends,  that  God  called  you  to  believe 
for  ?  or  that  you  becaine  Christians  for  ?  or  that  you  had  an  absolute 
promise  of  in  the  word  ?  If  you  will  make  promises  to  yourself,  and 
then  your  own  promises  deceive  you,  whom  should  you  blame  for 
that?  Nay,  do  we  not,  as  it  were,  necessitate  God  hereby  to  im- 
bitter  all  our  comforts  here  below,  and  to  make  every  creature  as 


TO    THE    POOR    IN    SPIRIT.  '2J7 

a  scorpion  to  us,  because  we  will  needs  make  them  our  petty  dei- 
ties ?  We  have  less  comfort  in  them  than  else  we  might  have,  be- 
cause we  must  needs  have  more  than  we  should  have.  You  might 
have  more  faithfulness  from  your  friends,  more  reputation  in  the 
world,  more  sweetness  in  all  your  present  enjoyments,  if  you  looked 
for  less.  Why  is  it  that  you  can  scarce  name  a  creature  near  you, 
that  is  not  a  scourge  to  you,  but  because  you  can  scarce  name  one 
that  is  not  your  idol,  or  at  least  which  you  do  not  expect  more 
from  than  you  ought  ?  1\ay,  (which  is  one  of  the  saddest  consider- 
ations of  this  kind  that  can  be  imagined,)  God  is  fain  to  scourge  us 
most  even  by  the  highest  professors  of  religion,  because  we  have 
most  idolized  them,  and  had  such  excessive  expectations  from  them. 
One  would  have  thought  it  next  to  an  impossibility,  that  such  men, 
and  so  many  of  them,  could  ever  have  been  drawn  to  do  that  against 
the  church,  against  that  gospel-ministry  and  ordinances  of  God, 
(which  once  seemed  dearer  to  them  than  their  lives,)  which  hath 
since  been  done,  and  which  yet  we  fear.  But  a  believing  eye  can 
discern  the  reason  of  this  sad  providence  in  part.  Never  men 
were  more  idolized,  and  therefore  no  wonder  if  .were  never  so 
afflicted  by  any.  Alas,  when  will  we  learn  by  scripture  and  provi- 
dence so  to  know  God  and  the  creature,  as  to  look  for  far  more 
from  him,  and  less  from  them !  We  have  looked  for  wonders  from 
Scotland,  and  what  is  come  of  it  ?  We  looked  that  war  should  have 
even  satisfied  our  desires,  and  when  it  had  removed  all  visible  im- 
pediments, we  thought  we  should  have  had  such  a  glorious  refor- 
mation as  the  world  never  knew !  And  now,  behold  a  Babel,  and  a 
mangled  deformation  !  Wliat  high  expectations  had  we  from  an 
assembly !  What  expectations  from  a  parliament !  And  where 
are  they  now?  O  hear  the  word  of  the  Lord,  ye  low-spirited 
people !  "  Cease  ye  from  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his  nosti'ils  ; 
for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted  of?"  Isa.  ii.  22.  "  Cursed  be 
the  man  that  trusteth  in  man,  and  inaketh  flesh  his  arm,  and  whose 
heart  departeth  from  the  Lord ;  for  he  shall  be  like  the  heath  in 
the  desert,  and  shall  not  see  when  good  cometh.  Blessed  is  tlie 
man  that  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  and  whose  hope  the  Lord  is ;  for 
he  shall  be  as  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters,"  &lc.  Jer.  xvii.  5 — 8. 
"  Surely  men  of  low  degree  are  vanity ;  and  men  of  high  degree 
are  a  lie.  To  be  laid  in  the  balance  they  are  altogether  lighter  than 
vanity."  Psal.  Ixii.  9.  Let  me  wai-n  you  all,  for  the  time  to  come, 
to  take  the  creature  as  a  creature ;  remember  its  frailly  ;  look  for 
no  more  from  it  than  its  part.  If  you  have  the  nearest,  dearest, 
godly  friends,  expect  to  feel  the  sting  of  their  corruptions,  as  well 
as  to  taste  the  sweetness  of  their  grace.  And  they  must  expect 
the  like  from  you. 

If  you  ask  me  why  I  speak  so  much  of  these  tilings  here  ?     It  is, 


238  TO    THE    POOR    IN    SPIRIT. 

1.  Because  I  find  that  much  of  the  trouble  of  ordinary  Christians 
comes  from  their  crosses  in  the  creature,  and  the  frustration  of  these 
their  sinful  expectations.  2.  And  because  I  have  said  so  little  of 
it  in  the  following  directions,  they  being  intended  for  the  cure  of 
another  kind  of  trouble,  therefore  I  have  said  thus  much  here 
of  this. 

Having  premised  this  advice,  I  take  myself  bound  to  add  one 
thing  more ;  that  is,  an  apology  for  the  publication  of  this  imper- 
fect piece,  whether  just  or  insufficient  otl:ier  men  must  judge.  I 
confess  I  am  so  apprehensive  of  the  luxuriant  fertility  or  licentious- 
ness of  the  press  of  late,  as  being  a  design  of  the  enemy  to  bury 
and  overwhelm  in  a  crowd  those  judicious,  pious,  excellent  writ- 
ings, that  before  were  so  commonly  read  by  the  people,  that  I  think 
few  men  should  now  print  without  an  apologv,  much  less  such  as  I. 
Who  hath  more  lamented  this  inundation  of  impertinencies  ?  or 
more  accused  the  ignorance  and  pride  of  others,  that  must  needs 
disgorge  themselves  of  all  their  crudities,  as  if  they  were  such  pre- 
cious conceptions  proceeding  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  the  world 
might  not,  without  very  great  injury,  be  deprived  of;  and  it  were 
pity  that  all  men  should  not  be  made  partakers  of  them  ?  And 
how  come  I  to  go  on  in  the  same  fault  myself?  Truly  I  have  no 
excuse  or  argument,  but  those  of  the  times,  necessity,  and  provi- 
dence ;  which  how  far  they  may  justify  me,  I  must  leave  to  the 
judge.  Being  in  company  with  a  troubled,  complaining  friend,  I 
perceived  that  it  must  be  some  standing  counsel  which  might  be 
frequently  pemsed,  that  must  satisfactorily  answer  the  complaints 
that  I  heard,  and  not  a  transient  speech,  which  would  quickly  slip 
away.  Being  therefore  obliged,  as  a  pastor,  and  as  a  friend,  and 
as  a  Christian,  to  tender  my  best  assistance  for  relief,  I  was  sud- 
denly, in  the  moment  of  speaking,  moved  to  promise  one  sheet  of 
paper,  which  might  be  useful  to  that  end.  Which  promise,  when 
I  attempted  to  perform,  the  one  sheet  lengthened  to  thirty,  and 
my  one  day's  (intended)  work  was  drawn  out  to  a  just  mouth.  I 
went  on  far  before  I  had  the  least  thought  to  let  any  eye  behold  it, 
except  the  party  for  whom  I  wrote  it.  But  at  last  I.  perceived  an 
impossibility  of  contracting,  and  I  was  presently  possessed  with  con- 
fident apprehensions,  that  a  copy  of  those  directions  might  be  use- 
ful to  many  other  of  my  poor  neighbors  and  friends  that  needed 
them  as  much.  Upon  which  apprehension  I  permitted  my  pen  to 
run  more  at  large,  and  to  deviate  from  the  case  of  the  party  that  I 
v.rote  for,  and  to  take  in  the  common  case  of  most  troubled,  doubt- 
ing souls.  By  that  time  that  I  had  finished  it,  I  received  letters 
from  several  parts,  from  learned  «nd  judicious  divines,  importuning 
me  to  print  more,  having  understood  my  intentions  to  desist,  as  hav- 
ing done  too  much  already,  even  at  first.     I  confess  I  was  not 


TO    THE   POOR    IN    SPIRIT.  239 

much  moved  by  their  importunity,  till  they  seconded  it  with  their 
arguments  ;  whereof  one  was,  the  experience  of  the  success  of 
former  writings,  which  might  assure  me  it  was  not  displeasing  to 
God.     I  had  many  that  urged  me,  I  had  no  one  but  myself  to  draw 
me  back.     I  apprehended  that  a  writing  of  this  nature  might  be 
useful  to  the  many  weak,  perplexed  Christians  through  the  land. 
Two  reasons  did  at  first  come  in  against  it.     The  first  was,  that 
if  there  were  no  more  written  on  this  subject  than  Dr.  Sibbs's 
"Bruised  Reed,  and  Soul's  Conflict,"  and  Mr.  Jos.  Symonds's 
"  Deserted  Soul's  Case  and  Cure,"  there  need  no  more.     Espe- 
cially there  being  also  Dr.  Preston's  Works,  and  many  of  Perkins's, 
to  this  use;  and  Mr.  Ball,  and  Mr.  Culverwell  of  Faith,  and  divers 
the  like.     To  this  my  own  judgment  answered,  that  yet  these  brief 
directions  might  add  somewhat  that  might  be  useful  to  the  weak,  as 
to  the  method  of  their  proceedings,  if  not  to  the  matter.     And  my 
brethren  stopped  my  mouth  by  telling  me,  that  others  had  written 
before  me  of  heaven  and  baptism,  and  yet  my  labors  were  not  lost. 
Next  this,  I  thought  the  crudity  and  weakness  of  the  wTiting  was 
such  as  should  prohibit  the  publication,  it  being  unfit  to  thrust  upon 
the  world  the  hasty,  undigested  lines  that  were  written  for  the  use 
of  one  person.     To  this  my  thoughts  replied,  that,  1.  For  all  that, 
it  might  be  useful  to  poor  women,  and  country  people,  who  most 
commonly  prove  the  troubled  spirits,  for  whose  sakes  I  wrote  it. 
Had  I  writ  for  the  use  of  learned  men,  I  would  have  tried  to  make 
it  fitter  for  their  use ;  and  if  I  could  not,  I  would  have  suppressed 
it.     2.  It  was  my  pride  that  nourished  this  scruple,  which  moved 
me  not  to  appear  so  homely  to  the  world,  and  therefore  I  cast  it 
by.     One  thing  more,  I  confess,  did  much  prevail  with  me  to  make 
these  papers  public,  and  that  is,  the  Antinomians'  common  confi- 
dent obtrusion  of  their  anti-evangelical  doctrines  and  methods  for 
comforting  troubled  souls.     They  are  the  most  notorious  mounte- 
banks in  this  art,  the  highest  pretenders,  and  most  unhappy  per- 
formers, that  most  of  the  reformed  churches  ever  knew.    And  none 
usually  are  more  ready  to  receive  their  doctrines,  than  such  weak 
women,  or  unskillful   people,  that,  being  in  trouble,  are  like  a  sick 
man  in  great  pain,  who  is  glad  to  hear  what  all  can  say,  and  to  make 
trial  of  every  thing  by  which  he  hath  any  hope  of  ease.     And  then 
there  is  so  much  opium  in  these  mountebanks'  Nepenthes,  or  An- 
tidote of  rest ;  so  many  principles  of  carnal  security  and  presump- 
tion, which  tend  to  the  present  ease  of  the  patient,  whatever  follow  ; 
that  it  is  no  wonder  if  some  well-meaning  Christians  do  quickly 
swallow  the  bait,  and  proclaim  the  rare  effects  of  this  medicament, 
and  the  admirable  skill  of  this  unskillful  sect,  to  the  insnaring  of 
others,  especially  that  are  in  the  like  distress.     Especially  when 
they  meet  with  some  divines  of  our  own,  who  do  deliver  to  them 


240  TO  THE    POOR   IN   SPIRIT. 

some  master-points  of  this  system  of  mistakes,  which  are  so  ne- 
cessarily concatenated  to  the  rest,  that  they  may  easily  see,  if 
they  have  one,  they  must  have  all,  unless  they  hold  contradictions. 
As  to  instance  in  the  doctrine  of  justification  before  faith,  or  the 
dissolving  of  the  obligation  to  punishment,  which  is  nothing  but  the 
remission  of  sin  before  faith.  So  that  nothing  remains  since 
Christ's  death  (as  some)  or  since  God's  decree  (as  others)  but  only 
to  have  your  pardon  manifested,  or  to  be  justified  in  conscience,  or 
(as  some  phrase  it)  to  have  that  justification  which  is  terminated  in 
conscience.  There  is  a  very  judicious  man,  Mr.  Benjamin  Wood- 
bridge,  of  Newbury,  hath  written  so  excellent  well  against  this 
error,  and  in  so  small  room,  being  but  one  sermon,  that  I  would 
advise  all  private  Christians  to  get  one  of  them,  and  peruse  it,  as 
one  of  the  best,  easiest,  cheapest  preservatives  against  the  conta- 
gion of  this  part  of  Antinomianism. 

I  had  not  troubled  the  reader  with  this  apology,  had  I  thought 
so  well  of  this  writing,  as  to  be  sufficient  apology  for  itself;  or  had 
I  not  taken  it  for  a  heinous  crime  to  speak  idly  in  print. 

For  the  doctrine  here  contained,  it  is  of  a  middle  strain,  between 
(I  think)  the  extremes  of  some  others.  I  have  labored  so  to  build 
up  peace  as  not  thereby  to  fortify  presumption.  And  perhaps  in 
some  points  you  may  see  my  meaning  more  plainly,  which,  through 
the  obscurity  of  former  writings,  I  was  misunderstood  in.  As  for 
the  manner  of  this  writing,  I  must  desire  them  that  expect  learning 
or  exactness,  to  turn  away  their  eyes,  and  know,  that  I  wrote  it  not 
for  such  as  they.  I  use  not  to  speak  any  thing  but  plain  English 
to  that  sex,  or  to  that  use  and  end,  for  which  I  wrote  these  lines. 
I  wrote  to  the  utmost  verge  of  my  paper,  before  I  thought  to  make 
it  public,  and  so  had  no  room  for  marginal  quotations,  (nor  time  to 
transcribe  that  copy,  that  I  might  have  room,)  nor  indeed  much 
mind  of  them,  if  I  had  both  room  and  time. 

As,  in  all  the  removes  of  my  life,  I  have  been  still  led  to  that 
place  or  state  which  was  farthest  from  my  own  thoughts,  and  never 
designed  or  contrived  by  myself;  so  all  the  WTitings  that  yet  I  have 
published  are  such  as  have  been,  by  some  sudden,  unexpected 
occasion,  extorted  from  me,  while  those  that  I  most  affected  have 
been  stifled  in  the  conception ;  and  those  I  have  most  labored  in 
must  lie  buried  in  the  dust,  that  I  may  know  it  is  God  that  is  the 
disposer  of  all.  Experience  persuadeth  me  to  think,  that  God, 
who  hath  compelled  me  hitherto,  intendeth  to  make  this  hasty 
^vrhI^g  a  means  for  the  calming  of  some  troubled  souls ;  which  if 
he  do,  I  have  my  end.  If  I  can  do  nothing  to  the  church's  public 
peace,  either  through  my  own  unskillfulness  and  unworthiness,  or 
through  the  prevalency  of  the  malady  ;  yet  will  it  be  my  comfort 
to  further  the  peace  of  tlie  poorest  Christian.     (Though  to  the 


TO    THE    POOR    IN    SPIRIT.  241 

former,  also,  I  shall  contribute  my  best  endeavors,  and  am  with  this 
sending  to  the  press  some  few  sheets  to  that  end,  with  our  "  Wor- 
cestershire Agreement.")  The  full  accomplishment  of  both  ;  the 
subduing  of  the  prince  of  darkness,  confusion,  and  contention  ; 
the  destroying  of  that  pride,  self-esteem,  self-seeking,  and  carnal- 
mindedness,  which,  remaining  even  in  the  best,  are  the  disturbers 
of  all  peace ;  the  fuller  discovery  of  the  sinfulness  of  unpeaceable 
principles,  dispositions  and  practices ;  the  nearer  closure  of  all  true 
believers,  and  the  hastening  of  the  church's  everlasting  peace  ; — 
these  are  his  daily  prayers,  who  is   * 

A  zealous  desirer  of  the  peace  of  the 

church,  and  of  every  faithful  soul, 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 
May  1,  1653. 

VOL.  I.  31 


RIGHT  METHOD 


A   SETTLED   PEACE  OF  CONSCIENCE, 


SPIRITUAL  COMFORT 


It  must  be  understood,  that  the  case  here  to  be  resolved  is  not. 
How  an  unhumbled,  profane  sinner,  that  never  was  convinced  of 
sin  and  misery,  shoulcl  be  brought  to  a  settled  peace  of  conscience. 
Their  carnal  peace. must  first  be  broken,  and  they  must  be  so  far 
humbled,  as  to  find  the  want  and  worth  of  rnercy,  that  Christ  and 
his  consolations  may  not  seem  contemptible  in  their  eyes.  It  is 
none  of  my  business  now  to  give  any  advice  for  the  furthering  of 
this  conviction  or  humiliation.  But  the  case  in  hand  is,  '  How  a 
sinner  may  attain  to  a  settled  peace  of  conscience,  and  some  com- 
petent measure  of  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  hath  been  con- 
vinced of  sin  and  misery,  and  long  made  a  profession  of  holiness, 
but  livetli  in  continual  doubtings  of  their  sincerity,  and  fears  of 
God's  wrath,  because  of  an  exceeding  deadness  of  spirit,  and  a 
want  of  that  love  to  God,  and  delight  in  him,  and  sweetness  in 
duty,  and  witness  of  the  Spirit,  and  communion  with  God,  and  the 
other  like  evidences  which  are  found  in  the  saints.'  How  far  the 
party  is  right .  or  wrong  in  the  discovery  of  these  wants,  I  now 
meddle  not.  Whether  they  judge  rightly  or  wrongly,  the  Direc- 
tions may  be  useful  to  them.  And  though  I  purposely  meddle  not 
with  the  unhumbled,  that  feel  not  the  want  of  Christ  and  mercy, 
yet  most  that  falls  may  be  useful  to  all  that  profess  the  Christian 
faith.  For  I  shall  study  so  to  avoid  the  extremes  in  my  doctrinal 
directions,  as  may  conduce  to  your  escaping  the  desperate  extremes 
of  ungrounded  comforts,  and  causeless  terrors  in  your  ovvti  spirit. 


DIRECTIONS    FOR    OETTIXO,  &iC.  243 

Of  my  directions,  tlio  first  shall  be  only  general,  and  the  rest 
more  particular.  And  all  of  them  1  must  entreat  you,  1.  To  ob- 
serve the  order  and  method,  as  well  as  the  matter  ;  and  that  you 
would  practice  them  in  the  same  order  as  I  place  them.  2.  And 
to  remembei"  that  it  is  not  only  comfortable  words,  but  it  is  direc- 
tions for  your  own  practice,  which  here  I  prescribe  you  ;  and  there- 
fore that  it  is  not  the  bare  reading  of  them  that  will  cure  you  ;  but 
if  you  mean  to  have  the  benefit  of  tliem,  you  must  bestow  more 
time  in  practicing  them,  than  I  have  done  in  penning  them  ;  yea, 
you  must  make  it  the  work  of  your  life.  And  let  not  that  startle 
you,  or  seem  tedious  to  you,  for  it  will  be  no  more  grievous  a  work 
to  a  well-tempered  soul,  than  eating,  or  drinking,  or  sleep,  or  rec- 
reation, is  to  an  healthful  body ;  and  than  it  is  to  an  honest  woman 
to  love  and  delight  in  her  husband  and  her  children,  which  is  no 
grievous  task. 

Direction  I.  '  Get  as  clear  a  discovery  as  you  can  of  the  true 
cause  of  your  doubts  and  troubles ;  for  if  you  should  mistake  in 
the  cause,  it  would  much  frustrate  the  most  excellent  means  for 
the  cure.' 

The  very  same  doubts  and  complaints  may  come  from  several 
causes  in  several  persons,  and  therefore  admit  not  of  the  same  way 
of  cure.  Sometimes  the  cause  begins  in  the  body,  and  thence 
proceedeth  to  the  mind  ;  sometimes  it  begins  in  the  mind,  and 
thence  distempereth  the  body.  Sometimes  in  the  mind,  it  is  most, 
or  first,  from  worldly  crosses,  and  thence  proceedeth  to  spiritual 
things.  And  of  spiritual  matters,  sometimes  it  begins  upon  scni- 
ples  or  differences  in  religion,  or  points  of  doctrine  ;  sometimes,  and 
most  commonly,  from  the  sense  of  our  own  infirmities  ;  sometimes 
it  is  only  from  ordinary  infirmities ;  sometimes  from  some  extra- 
ordinary decay  of  inward  grace  ;  sometimes  from  the  neglect  of 
some  weighty  duty ;  and  sometimes  fi'om  the  deep  wounds  of  some 
heinous,  secret,  or  scandalous  sin ;  and  sometimes  it  is  merely  from 
the  fresh  discovery  of  that  which  before  we  never  did  discern ;  and 
sometimes  from  the  violent  assault  of  extraordinary  temptations. 
Which  of  these  is  your  own  case,  you  must  be  careful  to  find  out, 
and  to  apply  the  means  for  cure  accordingly.  Even  of  true 
Christians,  the  same  means  will  not  fit  all.  The  difference  of  na- 
tures, as  well  as  of  actual  cases,  must  be  considered.  One  hath  need 
of  that  tender  handling,  which  would  undo  another;  and  he  again 
hath  need  of  that  rousing  which  another  cannot  bear.  And  there- 
fore understand,  that  when  I  have  given  you  all  the  directions  that 
I  can,  I  must,  in  the  end  hereof,  advise  you  to  take  the  counsel  of 
a  skillful  minister,  in  applying  and  making  use  of  them ;  for  it  is 
in  this,  as  in  the  case  of  physic,  when  we  have  written  the  best 
books  of  receipts,  or  for  methodical  cures ;  yet  we  must  advise 


244         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

people  to  take  heed  how  they  use  them,  without  the  advice  of  a 
learned  and  faithful  physician;  for  medicines  must  not  be  only 
fitted  to  diseases,  but  to  bodies :  that  medicine  will  kill  one  rn&n, 
which  will  cure  another  of  the  same  distemper ;  such  difference 
there  may  be  in  their  age,  strength,  complexion,  and  other  things. 
So  is  it  much  in  our  present  case.  And  therefore,  as,  when  all  the 
physic  books  in  the  world  are  written,  and  all  receipts  known,  yet 
will  there  be  still  a  necessity  of  physicians ;  so,  when  all  discov- 
eries and  directions  are  made  in  divinity,  there  will  still  be  a  neces- 
sity of  a  constant  standing  ministry.  And  as  ignorant  w^omen  and 
empirics  do  kill  ofttimes  more  than  they  cure,  though  they  have  tlie 
best  receipts,  for  want  of  judgment  and  experience  to  use  them 
aright ;  so  do  ignorant  teachers  and  guides  by  men's  souls,  though 
they  can  say  the  same  words  as  a  judicious  pastor,  and  repeat  the 
same  texts  of  scripture.  Not  that  I  mean  that  such  can  do  no 
good :  yes,  much,  no  doubt,  if  they  will  humbly,  compassionately, 
and  faithfully  improve  their  talents  within  the  verge  of  their  own 
calling  ;  which  if  they  go  beyond,  ordinarily  a  remarkable  judg- 
ment followeth  their  best  labors;  both  to  the  churches,  and  partic- 
ular souls  that  make  use  of  them.  And  therefore  because  (if  my 
conjectural  prognostics  fail  not,  as  I  daily  pray  they  may)  we  are 
like  to  be  more  tried  and  plagued  in  this  way  than  ever  were  any 
of  our  forefathers  since  Adam's  days,  till  now ;  and  seeing  this  is 
the  hour  of  our  temptation,  wherein  God  is  purposely  separating 
the  chaff,  and  discovering  to  the  world  the  dangers  of  injudicious, 
misguided  zeal;  I  shall  therefore  both  first  and  last  advise  you,  as 
ever  you  would  have  a  settled  peace  of  conscience,  keep  out  of 
the  hand  of  vagrant  and  seducing  mountebanks,  under  what  names, 
or  titles  or  pretenses  soever  they  may  assault  you.  Especially 
suspect  all  that  bestow  as  much  pains  to  win  you  to  their  party, 
as  to  win  you  to  Christ. 

Direct.  II.  '  Make  as  full  a  discovery  as  you  can,  how  much  of 
the  trouble  of  your  mind  doth  arise  from  your  melancholy  and 
bodily  distempers,  and  how  much  from  discontenting  afflictions  in 
your  worldly  estate,  or  friends,  or  name,  and  according  to  your  dis- 
covery make  use  of  the  remedy.' 

I  put  these  two  causes  of  trouble  here  together  in  the  beginning,  be- 
cause I  will  presently  dismiss  them  ;  and  apply  the  rest  of  these  direc- 
tions only  to  those  troubles  that  are  raised  from  sins  and  wants  in  grace. 

1.  For  melancholy  I  have  by  long  experience  found  it  to  have 
so  gi'eat  and  common  a  hand  in  the  fears  and  troubles  of  mind,  that 
I  meet  with  not  one  of  many,  that  live  in  great  troubles  and  fears 
for  any  long  time  together,  but  melancholy  is  the  main  seat  of 
them  ;  though  they  feel  nothing  in  their  body,  but  all  in  their  mind. 
I  would  have  such  persons  make  use  of  some  able,  godly  physician, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  245 

and  he  will  help  them  to  discern  how  much  of  their  trouble  comes 
from  melancholy.  Where  this  is  the  cause,  usually  the  party  is 
fearful  of  almost  every  thing ;  a  word,  or  a  sudden  thought,  will 
disquiet  them.  Sometimes  they  are  sad,  and  scarce  know  why ; 
all  comforts  are  of  no  continuance  with  them ;  but  as  soon  as  you 
have  done  comforting  them,  and  they  be  never  so  well  satisfied, 
yet  the  trouble  returns  in  a  few. days  or  hours,  as  soon  as  the  dark 
and  troubled  spirits  return  to  their  former  force ;  they  are  still  ad- 
dicted-to  musing  and  solitariness,  and  thoughts  will  ^run  in  their 
minds,  that  they  cannot  lay  them  by;  if  it  go  any  thing  far,  they 
are  almost  always  assaulted  with  temptations  to  blasphemy,  to 
doubt  whether  there  be  a  God,  or  a  Christ,  or  the  Scriptures  be 
true  ;  or  whether  there  be  a  heaven  or  a  hell ;  and  oft  tempted  to 
speak  some  blasphemous  words  against  God ;  and  this  with  such 
importunity,  that  they  can  hardly  forbear ;  and  ofttimes  they  are 
tempted  to  make  away  themselves.  "  When  it  goes  so  far,  they  are 
next  the  loss  of  the  use  of  reason,  if  it  be  not  prevented. 

Now,  to  those  that  find  that  melancholy  is  the  cause  of  their 
troubles,  I  would  give  this  advice.  1.  Expect  not  that  rational, 
spiritual  remedies  should  sufiice  for  this  cure ;  for  you  may  as 
well  expect  that  a  good  sermon,  or  comfortable  words,  should  cure 
the  falling  sickness,  or  palsy,  or  a  broken  head,  as  to  be  a  sufficient 
cure  to  your  melancholy  fears ;  for  this  is  as  real  a  bodily  disease 
as  the  other ;  only  because  it  works  on  the  spirits  and  fantasy,  on 
which  words  of  advice  do  also  work,  therefore  such  words,  and 
scripture  and  reason,  may  somewhat  resist  it,  and  may  palliate  or 
allay  some  of  the  eifects  at  the  present ;  but  as  soon  as  time  hath 
worn  off  the  force  and  eifects  of  these  reasons,  the  distemper  pres-- 
ently  returns. 

For  the  humor  hath  the  advantage  ;  (1 .)  Of  continual  presence. 
(■•2.)  Of  a  more  necessary,,  natural,  and  sensible  way  of  working. 
As  if  a  man  be  in  an  easy  lethargy,  you  may  awake  him  so  long  as 
you  are  calling  on  him  aloud  ;  but  as  soon  as  you  cease,  he  is  asleep 
again.  Such  is  the  case  of  the  melancholy  in  their  own  sorrows  ; 
for  it  is  as  natural  for  melancholy  to  cause  fears  and  disquietness  of 
mind,  as  for  phlegm  in  a  lethargy  to  cause  sleep. 

Do  not,  therefore,  lay  the  blame  on  your  books,  friends,  counsels, 
instructions,  (no,  nor  all  on  your  soul,)  if  these  troubles  be  not  cured 
by  words  ;  but  labor  to  discern  truly  how  much  of  yoin-  trouble 
comes  this  way,  and  then  fix  in  your  mind  in  all  your  inquiries, 
reading,  and  licaring,  that  it  is  the  other  part  of  your  trouble 
which  is  truly  rational,  and  not  this  part  of  it  which  is  from  melan- 
choly, that  these  means  were  ordained  to  remove  (though  God 
may  also  bless  them  extraordinarily  to  do  both.)  Only  constant, 
importunate  prayer  is  a  fit  and  special  means  for  the  curing  of  all. 


246         BIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

2.  When  you  have  truly  found  out  how  much  of  your  disquiet- 
ness  proceeds  from  melancholy,  acquit  your  soul  from  that  part  of 
it;  still  remember,  in  all  your  self-examinations,  self-judgings,  and. 
reflections  on  your  heart,  that  it  is  not  directly  to  be  charged  with 
those  sorrows  that  come  from  your  spleen ;  save  only  remotely,  as 
all  other  diseases  are  the  fruits  of  sin ;  as  a  lethargic  dullness  is  the 
deserved  fruit  of  sin  ;  but  he  that  should  charge  it  immediately  on 
his  soul,  should  wrong  himself,  and  he  that  would  attempt  the 
cure,  must  do  it  on  the  body. 

3.  If  you  would  have  these  fears  and  troubles  removed,  apply 
yourself  to  the  proper  cure  of  melancholy.  (1.)  Avoid  all  pas- 
sion of  sorrow,  fear,  and  anger,  as  much  as  you  can  ;  and  all  occa- 
sions, and  discontents  and  grief.  (2.)  Avoid  much  solitariness, 
and  be  most  commonly  in  some  cheerful  company.  Not  that  I 
would  have  you  do  as  the  foolish  sinners  of  the  world  do,  to  drink 
away  melancholy,  and  keep  company  with  sensual,  vain,  and  un- 
profitable persons,  that  will  draw  you  deeper  into  sin,  and  so  make 
your  wound  greater  instead  of  healing  it,  and  multiply  your  troubles 
when  forced  to  look  back  on  your  sinful  loss  of  time.  But  keep 
company  with  the  more  cheerful  sort  of  the  godly.  There  is  no 
mirth  like  the  mirth  of  believers,  which  faith  doth  fetch  from  the 
blood  of  Christ,  and  from  the  promises  of  the  Word,  and  from  ex- 
periences of  mercy,  and  from  the  serious  fore-apprehensions  of  our 
everlasting  blessedness.  Converse  with  men  of  strongest  faith, 
that  have  this  heavenly  mirth,  and  can  speak  experimentally  of  the 
joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  and  these  will  be  a  great  help  to  the  reviving 
of  your  spirit,  and  changing  your  melancholy  habit,  so  far  as  with- 
out a  physician  it  may  be  expected.  Yet  sometimes  it  may  not  be 
amiss  to  confer  with  some  that  are  in  your  own  case,  that  you  may 
see  that  your  condition  is  not  singular.  For  melancholy  people,  in 
such  distresses,  are  ready  to  think,  that  never  any  was  in  the  case 
as  they  are  in  ;  or  at  least,  never  any  that  were  truly  godly.  When 
you  hear  people  of  the  most  upright  lives,  and  that  truly  fear  God, 
to  have  the  same  complaints  as  you  have  yourself,  it  may  give  you 
some  hopes  that  it  is  not  so  bad  as  you  before  did  imagine.  How- 
ever, be  sure  that  you  avoid  solitariness  as  much  as  you  well  can. 
(3.)  Also  take  heed  of  too  deep,  fixed,  musing  thoughts  ;  studying 
and  serious  meditating  be  not  duties  for  the  deeply  melancholy,  (as 
1  shall  show  more  in  the  following  directions ;)  you  must  let  those 
alone  till  you  are  better  able  to  perform  them,  lest,  by  attempting 
those  duties  which  you  cannot  perform,  you  shall  utterly  disable 
yourself  from  all :  therefore  I  would  advise  you,  by  all  means,  to 
shake  and  rouse  yourself  out  of  such  musings,  and  suddenly  to 
turn  your  thoughts  away  to  something  else.  (4.)  To  this  end,  be 
sure  that  you  avoid  idleness  and  want  of  employment  ;  which,  as  it 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  247 

is  a  life  not  pleasing  to  God,  so  it  is  tlic  opportunity  for  melancholy 
thoughts  to  be  working,  and  the  chiefest  season  for  Satan  to  tempt 
you.  Never  let  the  devil  find  you  unemployed,  but  see  that  you 
go  cheerfully  about  the  works  of  your  calling,  and  follow  it  with  dili- 
gence; and  that  time  which^you  redeem  for  spiritual  exercises,  let  it 
be  most  spent  in  thanksgiving,  and  praises  and  heavenly  conference. 

These  things  may  do  much  for  prevention  and.  abating  your  dis- 
ease, if  it  be  not  gone  too  far  ;  but  if  it  be,' you  were  best  have  re- 
course to  the  physician,  and  expect  God's  blessing  in  the  use  of 
means ;  and  you  will  find,  when  your  body  is  once  cured,  the  dis- 
quietness  of  your  mind  will  vanish  of  itself. 

2.  The  second  part  of  this  direction  was,  that  you  take  notice 
how  much  of  your  disquietness  may  proceed  from  outward  crosses  ; 
for  it  is  ordinary  for  these  to  lie  at  the  root,  and  bring  the  heart 
into  disquiet  and  discontent,  and  then  trouble  for  sin  doth  follow 
after.  Alas,  how  oft  have  I  seen  verified  that  of  the  apostle  ;  2 
Cor.  vii.  10.  "The  sorrow  of  the  world  worketh  death."  How 
many,  even  godly  people,  have  I  known,  that  through  crosses  in 
children,  or  in  friends,  or  losses  in  estates,  or  wTongs  from  m?n,  or 
perplexities  that  through  some  unadvisedness  they  were  cast  into, 
or  the  like,  have  fallen  into  mortal  disease,  or  into  such  a  fixed 
melancholy,  that  some  of  them  have  gone  beside  themselves;  and 
others  have  lived  in  fears  and  doubting  ever  aftec,  by  the  removal 
of  the  disquietness  to  their  consciences  !  How  sad  a  thing  is  it, 
that  we  should  thus  add  to  our  own  afflictions  !  And  the  heavier 
we  judge  the  burden,  the  more  we  lay  on  I  As  if  God  had  not 
done  enough,  or  would  not  sufficiently  afflict  us.  We  may  more 
comfortably  bear  that  which  God  layeth  on  us,  than  that  which  we 
immediately  lay  upon  ourselves.  Crosses  are  not  great  or  small, 
according  to  the  bulk  of  the  matter,  but  according  chiefly  to  the 
mind  of  the  sufferer.  Or  else,  how  could  holy  men  "  rejoice  in 
tribulation,  and  be  exceeding  glad  that  they  are  accounted  worthy 
to  suffer  for  Christ?"  Reproaches,  wrongs,  losses,  are  all  without 
you  ;  unless  you  open  them  the  door  willfully  yourself,  they  cannot 
come  into  the  heart.  God  hath  not  put  the  joy  or  grief  of  youi* 
heart  in  any  other  man's  power,  but  in  your  owai.  It  is  you  there- 
fore that  do  yourselves  the  greatest  mischief.  God  afflicts  your 
body,  or  men  wrong  you  in  your  state  or  name,  (a  small  hurt  if  it 
go  no  further,)  and  therefore  you  will  afflict  your  soul  !  But  a  sadder 
thing  yet  is  it  to  consider  of,  that  men  fearing  God  should  so  high- 
ly value  the  things  of  the  world.  They  who,  in  their  covenants 
with  Christ,  are  engaged  to  renounce  the  world,  the  flesh  and  the 
devil !  They  that  have  taken  God  in  Christ  for  their  portion,  for 
their  all;  and  have  resigned  themselves  and  all  that  they  have  to 
Christ's  dispose!    Whose  very  business*  in  this  world,  and  their- 


248        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

Christian  life,  consisteth  so  much  in  resisting  the  devil,  mortifying 
the  flesh,  and  overcoming  the  world !  And  it  is  God's  business  in 
his  inward  works  of  grace,  and  his  outward  teachings,  and  sharp 
afflictions,  and  examples  of  others,  to  convince  them  of  the  vanity 
and  vexation  of  the  world,  and  thoroughly  to  wean  them  from 
it;  and  yet  that  it  should  be  so  high  in  their  estimation,  and 
sit  so  close  to  tjieir  hearts,  that  they  cannot  bear  the  loss  of 
it  without  such  discontent,  disquiet,  and  distraction  of  mind ! 
Yea,  though  when  all  is  gone,  they  have  their  God  left  them, 
they  have  their  Christ  still  whom  they  took  for  their  treasure ; 
they  have  opportunities  for  their  souls,  they  have  the  sure 
promise  of  glory,  yea,  and  a  promise,  that  "all  things  shall 
work  together  for  their  good  ;  "  yea,  and  for  that  one  thing  that  is 
taken  from  them  they  have  yet  an  hundred  outward  mercies  re- 
maining, that  yet  even  believers  should  have  so  much  unbelief! 
and  have  their  faith  to  seek,  when  they  should  use  it,  and  live  by 
it !  And  that  God  should  seem  so  small  in  their  eye,  as  not  to 
satisfy  or  quiet  them,  unless  they  have  the  world  with  him ;  and 
that  the  world  should  still  seem  so  amiable,  when  God  hath  done 
so  much  to  bring  it  into  contempt !  .  Truly  this  (and  more)  shows 
that  the  work  of  mortification  is  very  imperfect  in  professors,  and 
that  we  bend  not  the  force  of  our  daily  strivings  and  endeavors 
that  way.  If  Christians  did  bestow  as  much  time  and  pains  in  mor- 
tifying the  flesh,  and  getting  down  the  interest  of  it  in  the  soul, 
that  Christ's  interest  may  be  advanced,  as  they  do  about  contro- 
versies, external  duties,  formalities,  tasks  of  devotion,  and  self-tor- 
menting fears,  O  what  excellent  Christians  should  we  then  be  !  And 
how  happily  would  most  of  our  disquiets  be  removed !  Alas,  if  we 
are  so  unfit  to  part  with  one  outward  comfort  now,  upon  the  dis- 
posal of  our  Father's  providence,  how  should- we  forsake  all  for 
Christ  ?  O,  what  shall  we  do  at  death,  when  all  must  be  parted 
with  !  As  ever,  therefore,  j-ou  would  live  in  true  Christian  peace,  set 
more  by  Christ,  and  less  by  the  world,  and  all  things  in  it ;  and 
hold  all  that  you  possess  so  loosely,  that  it  may  not  be  grievous  to 
you  when  you  must  leave  them.     • 

So  much  for  the  troubles  that  arise  from  your  body  and  outward 
state.  All  the  rest  shall  be  directed  for  the  curing  of  those  troubles 
that  arise  immediately  from  more  spiritual  causes. 

Direct.  III.  'Be  sure  that  you  fost  lay  sound  apprehensions  of 
God's  nature  in  your  understanding,  and  lay  them  deeply.' 

This  is  the  first  article  of  your  creed,  and  the  first  part  of  "  life 
eternal,  to  know  God  !  "  His  substance  is  quite  past  human  un- 
derstanding ;  therefore  never  make  any  attempt  to  reach  to  the 
knowledge  of  it,  or  to  have  any  positive  conceivings  of  it,  for  they 
will  be  all  but  idols,  or  false  conceptions ;  but  his  attributes  ai-e 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  249 

manifested  to  our  understandings.  Well  consider,  that  even  under 
the  terrible  law,  when  God  proclaims  to  Moses  his  own  name,  and 
therein  his  nature,  Exod.  xxxiv.  6,  7.,  the  first  and  greatest  part  is, 
"  The  Lord  God,  mercifal  and  gracious,  long-sufFering,  and  abun- 
dant in  goodness  and  truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving 
iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin."  And  he  hath  sworn,  "  That  he 
hath  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  a  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  return 
and  Uve."  Think  not  therefore  of  God's  mercifulness,  with  dimin- 
ishing, extenuating  thoughts,  nor  limit  it  by  the  bounds  of  our  frail 
understandings  ;  for  the  heavens  are  not  so  far  above  the  earth  as 
his  thoughts  and  ways  '  are  above  ours.  Still  remember  that  you 
must  have  no  low  thoughts  of  God's  goodness,  but  apprehend  it  as 
bearing  proportion  with  his  power.  As  it  is  blasphemy  to  limit  his 
power,  so  it  is  to  limit  his  goodness.  The  advantages  that  your 
soul  will  get  by  this  right  knowledge,  and  estimation  of  God's  good- 
ness, will  be  these. 

1 .  This  will  make  God  appear  more  amiable  in  your  eyes,  and 
then  you  will  love  him  more  readily  and  abundantly.  And  love 
(1.)  Is  effectually  consolatory  in  the  very  working;  so  much  love, 
usually  so  much  comfort,  (I  mean  this  love  of  complacency  ;  for  a 
love  of  desire  there  may  be  without  comfort.)  (2.)  It  will  breed 
persuasions  of  God's  love  to  you  again,  and  so  comfort.  (3.)  It 
will  be  an  unquestionable  evidence  of  true  grace,  and  so  comfort. 

The  affections  follow  the  understanding's  conceptions.  If  you 
think  of  God  as  one  that  is  glad  of  all  advantages  against  you,  and 
delighteth  in  his  creatures'  misery,  it  is  impossible  you  should  love 
him.  The  love  of  yourselves  is  so  deeply  rooted  in  nature,  that 
we  cannot  lay  it  by,  nor  love  any  thing  that  is  absolutely  and  di- 
rectly against  us.  We  conceive  of  the  devil  as  an  absolute  enemy 
to  God  and  man,  and  one  that  seeks  our  destruction,  and  therefore 
we  cannot  love  him.  And  the  great  cause  why  troubled  souls  do 
love  God  no  more,  is  because  they  represent  him  to  themselves  in 
an  ugly,  odious  shape.  To  think  of  God  as  one  that  seeks  and  de- 
lighteth in  man's  ruin,  is  to  make  him  as  the  devil.  And  then  what 
wonder,  if  instead  of  loving  him,  and  delighting  in  him,  you  tremble 
at  the  thoughts  of  him,  and  fly  from  him  ?  As  I  have  observed 
children  when  they  have  seen  the  devil  painted  on  the  wall,  in  an 
ugly  shape,  they  have  partly  feared  and  partly  hated  it.  If  you 
do  so  by  God  in  your  fancy,  it  is  not  putting  the  name  of  God  on 
him  when  you  have  done,  that  will  reconcile  your  affections  to  him 
as  long  as  you  strip  him  of  his  divine  nature.  Remember  the  Holy 
Ghost's  description  of  God,  1  John  iv.  16.  "  God  is  love." — 
Write  these  words  deep  in  your  understanding. 

2.  Hereby  you  will  have  this  advantage  also,  that  your  thoughts 
of  God  will  be  more  sweet  and  delightful  to  you.     For  as  glorious 

VOL.  I.  32 


250  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

and  beautiful  sights  to  your  eyes,  and  melodious  sounds  to  your 
ears,  and  sweet  smells,  tastes,  &ic.,  are  all  delightful;  when  things 
deformed,  stinking,  &.C.,  are  all  loathsome,  and  we  turn  away  from 
one  with  abhon-ency,  but  for  the.  other,  we  would  often  see,  taste, 
&.C.,  and  enjoy  them.  So  it  is  with  the  objects  of  our  mind;  God 
hath  given  no  command  for  duty,  but  w^hat  most  perfectly  agreeth 
Avith  the  nature  of  the  object.  He  hath  therefore  bid  us  love  God, 
and  delight  in  him  above  all,  because  he  is  above  all  in  goodness ; 
even  infinitely  and  inconceivably  good  ;  else  we  could  not  love  him 
above  all,  nor  would  he  ever  command  us  so  to  do.  The  object  is 
as  ever  exactly  fitted  to  its  part,  as  to  draw  Out  the  love  and  delight 
of  our  hearts,  as  the  precept  is^  on  its  part,  to  oblige  us  to  it.  And 
indeed  the  nature  of  things  is  a  precept  to  duty,  and  it  which  we 
call  the  law  of  nature. 

3.  Hereupon  will  follow  this  further  advantage,  that  your 
thouo-hts  will  be  both  more  easily  drawn  toward  God,  and  more 
frequent  and  constant  on  him  ;  for  delightful  objects  draw  the  heart 
to  them  as  the  loadstone  doth  the  iron.  How  gladly,  and  freely, 
and  frequently  do  you  think  of  your  dearest  friends  !  And  if  you 
did  fii-mly  conceive  of  God,  as  one  that  is  ten  thousand  times  more 
gracious,  loving  and  amiable  than  any  friend  you  have  in  the  world, 
it  would  make  you  pot  only  to  love  him  above  all  friends,  but  also 
more  freely,  delightftdly  and  unweariedly  to  think  of  him. 

4.  And  then  you  would  hence  have  this  further  advantage,  that 
you  would  have  less  backwardness  to  any  duty,  and  less  weariness 
in  duty  ;  you  would  find  more  delight  in  prayer,  meditation,  and 
speech  of  God,  when  once  God  himself  were  more  lovely  and  de- 
lightful in  your  eyes. 

5.  All  these  advantages  would  produce  a  further,  that  is,  the 
growth  of  all  your  graces.  For  it  is  impossible,  but  this  growth  of 
love,  and  frequent  and  delightful  thoughts  of  God,  and  addresses  to 
him,  should  cause  an  increase  of  all  the  rest. 

6.  Hereupon  your  evidences  would  be  more  clear  and  discerni- 
ble. For  grace  in  strength  and  action  would  be  easily  found;  and 
would  not  this  resolve  all  your  doubts  at  once  ? 

7.  Yea,  the  very  exercise  of  these  several  graces  would  be  com- 
fortable. 

8.  And  hereupon  you  would  have  more  humble  familiarity  and 
communion  with  God;  for  love,  delight,  and  frequent  addresses, 
would  overcome  strangeness  and  disacquaintance,  which  make  us 
fly  from  God,  as  a  fish,  or  bird,  or  wild  beast,  will  from  the  face  of 
a  man,  and  would  give  us  access  with  boldness  and  confidence. 
And  this  would  banish  sadness  and  terror,  as  the  sun  dispelleth 
darkness  and  cold. 

9.  At  least  you  would  hence  have  this  advantage,  that  the  fixed 


SPIRITUAL    PEACK    AND    COMFORT.  ♦        951 

apprehension  of  God's  goodness  and  merciful  nature,  would  cause 
a  fixed  apprehension  of  the  probability  of  your  happiness,  as  lon;;^ 
as  you  are  willing  to  be  happy  in  God's  way.  For  reason  will  tell 
you,  that  he  who  is  love  itself,  and  whose  goodness  is  equal  to  his 
almightiness,  and  who  hath  sworn,  that  he  hath  no  pleasure  in  the 
death  of  a  sinner,  but  rather  that  he  repent  and  live,  will  not  de- 
stroy a  poor  soul  that  lieth  in  submission  at  his  feet,  and  is  so  far 
from  resolved  rebellion  against  him,  that  he  grieveth  that  it  is  no 
better,  and  can  please  him  no  more. 

10.  However,  these  right  apprehensions  of  God  would  overcome 
those  terrors  which  are  raised  only  by  false  apprehensions  of  him. 
And  doubtless  a  very  great  part  of  men's  causeless  troubles  are 
raised  from  such  misapprehensions  of  God.  For  Satan  knows,  that 
if  he  can  bring  you  to  think  of  God  as  a  cruel  tyrant  and  blood- 
thirsty man-hater,  then  he  can  drive  you  from  him  in  terror,  and 
turn  all  your  love  and  cheerful  obedience  into  hatred  and  slavish 
fear.  I  say  therefore  again,  do  not  only  get,  but  also  fix  deep  in 
your  understanding,  the  highest  thoughts  of  God's  natural  goodness 
and  graciousness  that  you  possibly  can  raise.  For  when  they  are 
at  the  highest,  they  come  short  ten  thousand  fold. 

Object.  '  But  God's  goodness  lieth  not  in  mercy  to  men,  as  I 
have  read  in  great  divines;  he  may  be  perfectly  good,  though  he 
should  forever  torment  the  most  innocent  creatures.' 

Answ.  These  are  ignorant,  presumptuous  intrusions  into  that 
which  is  unsearchable.  Where  doth  Scripture  say  as  you  say  ? 
Judge  of  God  as  he  revealeth  himself,  or  you  will  but  delude  your- 
self, and  abuse  him.  All  his  works  represent  him  merciful ;  for 
"  his  mercy  is  over  all  his  works,"  and  legible  in  them  all.  His 
word  saith,  "  He  is  good,  and  doth  good  ;  "  Psalm  cxix.  68.  cxlv. 
9.  How  himself  doth  proclaim  his  own  name,  (Exod.  xxxiv.  tJ. 
7,)  I  told  you  before.  The  most  merciful  men  are  his  liveliest 
image;  and  therefore  he  plants  mercy  in  them  in  their  conversion, 
as  a  principal  part  of  their  new  nature.  And  commands  of  merci- 
fulness are  a  great  part  of  his  law  ;  and  he  bids  us  "  be  merciful,  as 
our  heavenly  Father  is  merciful ;"  Luke  vi.  36.  Now,  if  this  were 
none  of  his  nature,  how  could  he  be  the  pattern  of  our  new  nature 
herein?  And  if  he  were  not  infinitely  merciful  himself,  how  could 
we  be  required  to  be  merciful  as  he  is  ?  Who  dare  say,  '  1  am  more 
merciful  than  God  ? ' 

Object.  '  But  God  is  just  as  well  as  merciful ;  and  for  all  iiis 
merciful  nature,  he  will  damn  most  of  the  world  forever  in  hell.' 

Ansiv.  1,  But  James  saith,  '^' Mercy  rejoiceth  against  judg- 
ment ;"  James  ii.  13.  2.  God  is  necessarily  the  governor  of  the 
world,  (while  there  is  a  world,)  and  therefore  must  govern  it  in 
justice,  and  so  must  not  suffer  his  mercy  to  be  perpetually  abused 


252   •     DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

by  wicked,  willful,  contemptuous  sinners.  But  then  consider  two 
things:  (1.)  That  he  destroyeth  not  humble  souls  that  he  at  his 
feet,  and  are  willing  to  have  mercy  on  his  easy  terms,  but  only  the 
stubborn  despisers  of  his  mercy.  He  damneth  none  but  those 
that  will  not  be  saved  in  his  way  ;  that  is,  that  will  not  accept  of 
Christ  and  salvation  freely  given  them.  (I  speak  of  those  that 
hear  the  gospel ;  for  others,  their  case  is  more  unknown  to  us.) 
And  is  it  any  diminution  to  his  infinite  mercy,  that  he  will  not 
save  those  that  will  not  be  entreated  to  accept  of  salvation  ?  (2.) 
And  consider  how  long  he  useth  to  wait  on  sinners,  and  even  be- 
seech them  to  be  reconciled  to  him,  before  he  destroyeth  them ; 
and  that  he  heapeth  up  multitudes  of  mercies  on  them,  even  in 
their  rebellion,  to  draw  them  to  repentance,  and  so  to  life.  And 
is  it  unmercifulness  yet  if  such  men  perish  ? 

Object.  '  But  if  God  were  so  infinite  in  mercy,  as  you  say,  why 
doth  he  not  make  all  these  men  willing,  that  so  they  may  be  saved  ? ' 

Ansiv.  God,  having  created  the  world  and  all  things  in  it,  at  first, 
did  make  them  in  a  certain  nature  and  order,  and  so  established 
them  as  by  a  fixed  law ;  and  he  thereupon  is  their  governor,  to 
govern  every  thing  according  to  its  nature.  Now,  man's  nature 
was,  to  be  principled  with  an  inclination  to  his  own  happiness,  and 
to  be  led  to  it  by  objects  in  a  moral  way,  and  in  the  choice  of 
means  to  be  a  free  agent,  and  a  guider  of  himself  under  God.  As 
governor  of  the  rational  creature,  God  doth  continue  that  same 
course  of  ruling  them  by  laws,  and  drawing  them  by  ends  and 
objects  as  their  natures  do  require.  And  in  this  way  he  is  not 
•wanting  to  them ;  his  laws  are  now  laws  of  grace,  and  universal  in 
the  tenor  of  the  free  gift  and  promise,  for  he  hath  there  given  life 
in  Christ  to  all  that  will  have  it ;  and  the  objects  propounded  are 
sufficient  in  their  kind  to  work  even  the  most  wonderful  effects 
on  men's  souls,  for  they  are  God  himself,  and  Christ  and  glory. 
Besides,  God  giveth  men  natural  faculties,  that  they  may  have  the 
use  of  reason ;  and  there  is  nothing  more  unreasonable  than  to  re- 
fuse this  offered  mercy.  He  giveth  inducing  arguments  in  the 
written  word,  and  sermons,  and  addeth  such  mercies  and  afflictions, 
that  one  should  think  should  bow  the  hardest  heart.  Besides,  the 
strivings  and  motions  of  his  Spirit  within  are  more  than  we  can 
give  an  account  of.  Now,  is  not  this  as  much  as  belongs  to  God 
as  governor  of  the  creature  according  to  its  nature  ?  And  for  the 
giving  of  a  new  nature,  and  creating  new  hearts  in  men,  after  all 
their  rebellious  rejecting  of  grace,  this  is  a  certain  mirpcle  of  mercy, 
and  belongs  to  God  in  another  relation,  (even  as  the  fi'ee  chooser 
of  his  elect,)  and  not  directly  as  the  governor  of  the  universe. 
This  is  from  his  special  providence,  and  the  former  from  "his  gen- 
eral.    Now,  special  providences  are  not  to  be  as  common  as  the 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  253 

general,  nor  to  subvert  God's  ordinary  established  course  of  gov- 
ei-nment.  If  God  please  to  stop  Jordan,  and  dry  up  the  Red  Sea 
for  the  passage  of  the  Israelites,  and  to  cause  the  sun  to  stand  still 
for  Joshua,  must  he  do  so  still  for  every  man  in  the  world,  or  else 
be  accounted  unmerciful  ?  The  sense  of  this  objection  is  plainly 
this;  God  is  not  so  rich  in  mercy,  except  he  will  new  make  all  the 
world,  or  govern  it  above  its  nature.  Suppose  a  king  know  his 
subjects  to  be  so  wicked,  that  they  have  every  one  a  full  design  to 
famish  or  kill  themselves,  or  poison  themselves  with  something 
which  is  enticing  by  its  sweetness  ;  the  king  not  only  makes  a  law, 
strictly  charging  them  all  to  forbear  to  touch  that  poison,  but  he 
sendeth  special  messengers  to  entreat  them  to  it,  and  tell  them  the 
danger.  If  these  men  will  not  hear  him,  but  willfully  poison  them- 
selves, is  he  therefore  unmerciful  ?  But  suppose  that  he  hath, 
three  or  four  of  his  sons  that  are  infected  with  the  same  wicked- 
ness, and  he  will  not  only  command  and  entreat  them,  but  he  will 
lock  them  up,  or  keep  the  poison  from  them,  or  will  feed  them  by 
violence  with  better  food ;  is  he  unmerciful  unless  he  will  do  so  by 
all  the  rest  of  his  kingdom? 

Lastly.  If  all  this  will  not  satisfy  you,  consider,  (1.)  That  it  is 
most  certain  God  is  love,  and  infinite  in  mercy,  and  hath  no  pleas- 
ure in  the  death  of  sinners.  (2.)  But  it  is  utterly  uncertain  to  us 
how  God  worketh  on  man's  will  inwardly  by  his  Spirit.  (3.)  Or 
yet  what  intolerable  inconvenience  there  may  be  if  God  should 
work  in  other  ways  ;  therefore  we  must  not  upon  such  uncertainties 
deny  certainties,  nor  from  some  unreasonable  scruples  about  the 
manner  of  God's  working  grace,  deny  the  blessed  nature  of  God, 
which  himself  hath  most  evidently  proclaimed  to  the  world. 

I  have  said  the  more  of  this,  because  I  find  Satan  harp  so  much 
on  this  string  with  many  troubled  souls,  especially  on  the  advantage 
of  some  common  doctrines.  For  false  doctrine  still  tends  to  the 
overthrow  of  solid  peace  and  comfort.  Remember,  therefore,  before 
all  other  thoughts  for  the  obtaining  of  peace,  to  get  high  thoughts 
of  the  gracious  and  lovely  nature  of  God. 

Direct.  IV.  Next  this,  'Be  sure  that  you  deeply  apprehend 
the  gracious  nature,  disposition,  and  office,  of  the  Mediator  Jesus 
Clirist.' 

Though  there  can  no  more  be  said  of  the  gracious  nature  of  the 
Son  than  of  the  Father's,  even  that  his  goodness  is  infinite  ;  yet 
these  two  advantages  this  consideration  will  add  unto  the  former. 
1.  You  will  see  here  goodness  and  mercy  in  its  condescension,  and 
nearer  to  you  than  in  the  divine  nature  alone  it  was.  Our  thoughts 
of  God  are  necessarily  more  strange,  because  of  our  infinite  distance 
from  the  Godhead  ;  and  therefore  our  apprehensions  of  God's  good- 
ness will  be  the  less  working,  because  less  familiar.  But  in  Christ, 


254        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

God  is  come  down  into  our  nature,  and  so  infinite  goodness  and 
mercy  is  incarnate.  The  man  Christ  Jesus  is  able  now  to  save  to 
the  utmost  all  that  come  to  God  by  him.  We  have  a  merciful 
High-Priest  that  is  acquainted  with  our  infirmities.  2.  Herein  we 
see  the  will  of  God  putting  forth  itself  for  our  help  in  the  most 
astonishing  way  that  could  be  imagined.  Here  is  more  than  merely 
a  gracious  inclination.  It  is  an  office  of  saving  and  showing  mercy 
also  that  Christ  hath  undertaken ;  even  "  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
which  was  lost ;"  to  bring  home  straying  souls  to  God ;  to  be  the 
great  Peace-maker  between  God  and  man,  to  reconcile  God  to 
man,  and  man  to  God ;  and  so  to  be  the  Head  and  Husband  of  his 
people.  Certainly  the  devil  strangely  wrongeth  poor,  troubled 
souls  in  this  point,  that  he  can  bring  them  to  have  such  hard,  sus- 
picious thoughts  of  Christ,  and  so  much  to  overlook  the  glory  of 
mercy,  which  so  shineth  in  the  face  of  the  Son  of  Mercy  itself. 
How  can  we  more  contradict  the  nature  of  Christ,  and  the  gospel 
description  of  him,  than  to  think  him  a  destroying  hater  of  his 
creatures,  and  one  that  watcheth  for  our  halting,  and  hath  more 
mind  to  hurt  us  than  to  help  us?  How  could  he  have  manifested 
more  willingness  to  save,  and  more  tender  compassion  to  the  souls 
of  men,  than  he  hath  fully  manifested  ?  That  the  Godhead  should 
condescend  to  assume  our  nature  is  a  thing  so  wonderful,  even  to 
astonishment,  that  it  puts  faith  to  it  to  apprehend  it ;  for  it  is  ten 
thousand  times  more  condescension  than  for  the  greatest  king  to  be- 
come a  fly  or  a  toad  to  save  such  creatures.  And  shall  we  ever 
have  low  and  suspicious  thoughts  of  the  gracious  and  merciful  nature 
of  Christ,  after  so  strange  and  full  a  discovery  of  it  ?  If  twenty  were 
ready  to  drown  in  the  sea,  and  if  one  that  were  able  to  swim  and 
fetch  all  out,  should  cast  himself  into  the  water,  and  offer  them  his 
help,  were  it  not  foolish  ingratitude  for  any  to  say,  '  I  know  not  yet 
whether  he  be  willing  to  help  me  or  not ; '  and  so  to  have  jealous 
thoughts  of  his  good-will,  and  so  perish  in  refusing  his  help  ?  How 
tenderly  did  Christ  deal  with  all  sorts  of  sinners  !  He  professed 
that  he  "  came  not  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world,  but 
that  the  world  through  him  might  be  saved."  Did  he  weep 
over  a  rejected,  unbelieving  people,  and  was  he  desirous  of  their 
desolation  ?  "  How  oft  would  he  have  gathered  them  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  (mark,  that  he  would  have 
done  this  for  them  that  he  cast  off,)  and  they  would  not !  "  When 
his  disciples  would  have  had  "  fire  come  down  from  heaven  to 
consume  those  that  refused  him,"  he  reproves  them,  and  tells  them, 
"  They  knew  not  what  spirit  they  were  of,"  (the  common  case  of 
them  that  miscarry,  by  suffering  their  zeal  to  overrun  their  Chris- 
tian wisdom  and  .meekness.)  Yea,  he  prayeth  for  his  crucifiers, 
and  that  on  the  cross,  not  forgetting  them  in  the  heat  of  his  suffer- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  255 

ings.  Thus  he  doth  by  the  wicked ;  but  to  those  that  follow  him,  iiis 
tenderness  is  unspeakable,  as  you  would  have  said  yourself,  if  you  had 
but  stood  by  and  seen  him  v/ashing  his  disciples'  feet,  and  wiping 
them ;  or  bidding  Thomas  put  his  finger  into  his  side,  "  and  be  not 
faithless,  but  believing."  Alas  !  that  the  Lord  Jesus  should  come 
from  heaven  to  earth,  from  glory  into  human  flesh,  and  pass  through 
a  life  of  misery  to  a  cross,  and  from  the  cross  to  the  grave,  to  man- 
ifest openly  to  the  world  the  abundance  of  his  love,  and  the  ten- 
derness of  his  heart  to  sinners  ;  and  that,  after  all  this,  we  should  ^ 
suspect  him  of  cruelty,  or  hard-heartedness,  and  unwillingness  to 
show  mercy  ;  and  that  the  devil  can  so  far  delude  us,  as  to  make 
us  think  of  the  Lamb  of  God  as  if  he  were  a  tiger  or  devourer ! 

But  I  will  say  no  more  of  this,  because  Dr.  Sibbs,  in  his  "  Bruis- 
ed Reed,"  hath  said  so  much  already.  Only  remember,  that  if 
you  would  methodically  proceed  to  the  attaining  of  solid  comfort, 
this  is  the  next  stone  that  must  be  laid.  You  must  be  deeply 
possessed  with  apprehensions  of  the  most  gracious  nature  and  office 
of  the  Redeemer,  and  the  exceeding  tenderness  of  his  heart  to 
lost  sinners. 

Direct.  V.  The  next  step  in  right  order  to  comfort  is  this :  '  You 
must  believe  and  consider  the  full  sufficiency  of  Christ's  sacrifice 
and  ransom  for  all.' 

The  controversies  about  this  you  need  not  be  troubled  at.  For 
as  almost  all  confess  this  sufficiency,  so  the  Scripture  itself,  by  the 
plainness  and  fullness  of  its  expression,  makes  it  as  clear  as  the 
light,  that  Christ  died  for  all.  The  fuller  proof  of  this  I  have 
given  you  in  public,  and  shall  do  yet  more  publicly,  if  God  will. 
If  Satan  would  persuade  you  either  that  no  ransom  or  sacrifice  was 
ever  given  for  you,  or  that  therefore  you  have  no  Redeemer  to 
trust  in,  and  no  Savior  to  believe  in,  and  no  sanctuary  to  fly  to 
from  the  wrath  of  God,  he  must  first  prove  you  either  to  be  no 
lost  sinner,  or  to  be  a  final.  Impenitent  unbeliever ;  that  is,  that  you 
are  dead  already ;  or  else  he  must  delude  your  understanding,  to 
make  you  think  that  Christ  died  not  for  all ;  and  then  I  confess  he 
hath  a  sore  advantage  against  your  faith  and  comfort. 

Direct.  VL  The  next  thing  in  order  to  be  done  is  this :  '  Get 
clear  apprehensions  of  the  freeness,  fullness  and  universality  of  the 
new  covenant  or  law  of  grace.' 

I  mean  the  promise  of  remission,  justification,  adoption,  and  sal- 
vation to  all,  .so  they  will  believe.  No  man  on  earth  is  excluded 
in  the  tenor  of  this  covenant.  And  therefore  certainly  you  are  not 
excluded;  and  if  not  excluded,  then  you  must  needs  be  included. 
Show  where  you  are  excluded  if  you  can  !  You  will  say,  '  But 
for  all  this,  all  men  are  not  justified  and  saved.'     Ansiv.  True,  be- 


256        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

cause  they  will  not  be  persuaded  to  accept  the  mercy  that  is  freely 
given  them. 

The  use  that  I  would  have  you  make  of  this,  I  will  show  in 
the  next. 

Direct.  VII.  '  You  must  get  the  right  understanding  of  the  dif- 
ference between  general  grace  and  special.  And  between  the 
possibility,  probability,  conditional  certainty,  and  absolute  certainty 
of  your  salvation.  And  so  between  the  comfort  on  the  former 
^ground  and  on  the  latter.' 

And  here  I  shall  open  to  you  a  rich  mine  of  consolation. 

Understand,  therefore,  that  as  every  particular  part  of  the  house 
is  built  on  the  foundation,  so  is  every  part  of  special  grace  built  on 
general  grace.  Understand  also,  that  all  the  four  last-mentioned 
particulars  do  belong  to  this  general  grace.  As  also,  that  though 
no  man  can  have  absolute  certainty  of  salvation  from  the  considera- 
tion of  this  general  grace  alone,  yet  may  it  afford  abundance  of 
relief  to  distressed  souls,  yea,  much  true  consolation.  Lastly, 
Understand  that  all  that  hear  the  gospel  may  take  part  in  this  con- 
solation, though  they  have  no  assurance  of  their  salvation  at  all,  no, 
nor  any  special,  saving  grace. 

Now,  when  you  understand  these  things  well,  this  is  the  use  that 
1  would  have  you  make  of  them. 

1.  Do  not  begin  the  way  to  your  spiritual  peace  by  inquiring 
after  the  sincerity  of  your  graces,  and  trying  yourselves  by  signs. 
Do  not  seek  out  for  assurance  of  salvation  in  the  first  place,  nor  do 
not  look  and  study  after  the  special  comforts  which  come  from  cer- 
tainty of  special  grace,  before  you  have  learned,  (1.)  To  perform 
the  duty;  (2.)  And  to  receive  the  comforts  which  general  grace 
affordeth.  Such  immethodical,  disorderly  proceedings  keep'thou- 
sands  of  poor,  ignorant  Christians  in  darkness  and  trouble  almost  all 
their  days.  Let  the  first  thing  you  do  be  to  obey  the  voice  of  the 
gospel,  which  calleth  you  to  accept  of  Christ  and  special  mercy. 
"  This  is  the  record,  that  God  hath  given  us  eternal  life,  and  this 
life  is  in  his  Son.  He  that  hath  the  Son  hath  life."  Fix  this 
deep  in  your  mind,  that  the  nature  of  the  gospel  is  first  to  declare 
to  our  understandings  the  most  gracious  nature,  undertakings,  and 
performances  of  Christ  for  us,  which  must  be  believed  to  be  true ; 
and  secondly  to  offer  this  Christ  with  all  his  special  mercy  to  every 
man  to  whom  this  gospel  comes,  and  to  entreat  them  to  accept 
Christ  and  life,  which  is  freely  given  and  offered  to- them.  Re- 
member then  you  are  a  lost  sinner.  For  certain  Christ  and  life  in 
him  is  given  and  offered  to  you.  Now,  your  first  \vork  is,  presently 
to  accept  it ;  not  to  make  an  unseasonable  inquiry,  whether  Christ 
be  yours,  but  to  take  him  that  he  may  be  yours.     If  you  were 


\ 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  257 

condemned,  and  a  pardon  were  freely  given  you,  on  condition  you 
would  thankfully  take  it,  and  it  were  offered  to  you,  and  you  en- 
treated to  take  it,  what  would  you  do  in  this  case  ?  Would  you 
spend  yoiu'  time  and  thoughts  in  searciiing  whether  this  pardon  be 
already  yours?  Or  would  you  not  presently  take  it  that  it  may  be 
yours  ?  Or,  if  you  were  ready  to  famish,  and  food  were  offered 
you,  would  you  stand  asking  fii'st,  '  How  shall  I  know  that  it  is 
mine  ? '  Or  rather  take  and  eat  it,  when  you  are  sure  it  may  be 
yours  if  you  will?  Let  me  entreat  you,  therefore,  when  the  devil 
clamors  in  your  ears,  '  Christ  and  salvation  is  none  of  thine,'  sup- 
pose that  this  voice  of  God  in  the  gospel  were  still  in  your  ears, 
yea,  let  it  be  still  in  your  memory,  '  O,  take  Christ,  and  life  in  him, 
that  thou  mayest  be  saved  : '  still  think  that  you  hear  Paul  follow- 
ing you  with  these  words :  "  We  are  ambassadors  for  Christ,  as 
though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us.  We  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  be  reconciled  to  God."  Will  you  but  remember  this,  when 
you  are  on  your  knees  in  sorrow ;  and  when  you  would  fain  have 
Christ  and  life,  and  you  are  afraid  that  God  will  not  give  them  to 
you  ?  I  say,  remember,  then,  God  stands  by,  beseeching  you  to 
accept  the  same  thing  which  you  are  beseeching  him  to  give.  God 
is  the  first  suitor  and  solicitor.  God  prays  you  to  take  Christ,  and 
you  pray  him  to  give  you  Christ.  What  have  you  now  to  do  but 
to  take  him?  And  here  understand,  that  this  taking  is  no  impossi- 
ble business  ;  it  is  no  more  but  your  hearty  consenting,  as  I  shall 
tell  you  more  anon.  If  you  did  but  well  understand  and  consider, 
that  believing  is  the  great  duty  that  God  calls  you  to  perform,  and 
promiseth  to  save  you  if  you  do  truly  perform  it ;  and  that  this  be- 
lieving is  to  take,  or  consent  to  have  the  same  mercy  which  you 
pray  for,  and*  are  troubled  for  fear  lest  you  shall  miss  of  it,  even 
Christ  and  life  in  him ;  this  would  presently  draw  forth  your  con- 
sent, and  that  in  so  open  and  express  a  way,  as  you  could  not  but 
discover  it,  and  have  the  comfort  of  it.  Remember  this  then, 
That  your  first  work  is  to  believe,  or  accept  an  offered  Savior. 

2.  You  must  learn  (as  I  told  you)  to  receive  the  comforts  of 
universal  or  general  grace,  before  you  search  after  the  comforts  of 
special  grace.  I  here  suppose  you  so  far  sound  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  gospel,  as  neither  with  some,  on  one  hand,  to  look  so  much  at 
special  grace,  as  to  deny  that  general  grace,  which  is  the  ground 
of  it,  or  piesupposed  to  it;  nor  with  others,  so  far  to  look  at  uni- 
versal mercy,  as  to  deny  special.  Satan  will  tell  you,  that  all  your 
duties  have  been  done  in  hypocrisy,  and  you  are  unsound  at 
the  heart,  and  have  not  a  drop  of  saving  grace.  You  are  apt  to 
entertain  this,  and  conclude  that  all  this  is  true :  'If  I  had  any 
grace,  I  should  have  more  life,  and  love,  and  delight  in  God  ;  more 
tenderness  of  heart,  more  growth  in  grace.  I  should  not  carry 
VOL.  I.  :« 


258        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

about  such  a  rock  in  my  breast ;  such  a  stupid,  dull,  Insensible 
soul,'  &.C. 

At  the  present,  let  us  suppose  that  all  this  be  true  :  yet  see  what 
a  world  of  comfort  you  may  gather  from  universal  or  general  mercy. 
I  have  before  opened  to  you  four  parts  of  it,  in  the  cause  of  your 
happiness,  and  three  in  the  effect,  which  may  each  of  them  afford 
much  relief  to  your  troubled  soul. 

1 .  Suppose  you  are  yet  graceless ;  is  it  nothing  to  you  that  it  is 
a  God  of  infinite  mercy  that  you  have  to  do  with,  whose  compas- 
sions are  ten  thousand  times  greater  than  your  dearest  friends',  or 
your  own  husband's  ? 

Object.  '  O,  but  yet  he  will  not  save  the  graceless.' 
Answ.  True,  but  he  is  the  more  ready  to  give  grace,  that  you 
may  be  saved.  "If  any  of  you  (mark,  any  of  you)  do  lack  wis- 
dom, let  him  ask  it  of  God,  who  giveth  to  all  men  liberally  (with- 
out desert)  and  upbraideth  not,  (with  our  unworthiness  or  foirner 
faults,)  and  it  shall  be  given  him  ;  "  James  i.  4.  "  If  you  that  are 
evil  can  give  good  gifts  to  your  children,  how  much  more  shall 
your  heavenly  Father  give  his  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  it?" 
Luke  xi.  13.  Suppose  your  life  were  in  the  hands  of  your  own 
husband,  or  your  children's  life  in  your  hands,  would  it  not  exceed- 
ingly comfort  you  or  them,  to  consider  whose  hands  they  are  in, 
though  yet  you  had  no  further  assurance  how  you  should  be  used  ? 
It  may  be  you  will  say,  '  But  God  is  no  Father  to  the  graceless.' 
I  answer.  He  is  not  their  Father  in  so  near  and  strict  a  sense  as  he 
is  the  Father  of  believers ;  but  yet  a  Father  he  is,  even  to  the 
wicked ;  and  to  convince  men  of  his  fatherly  mercy  to  them,  he 
often  so  styleth  himself.  He  saith  by  Moses,  Deut.  xxxii.  6,  to  a 
wicked  generation,  whose  spot  was  not  the  spot  of  his  children, 
"  Do  ye  thus  requite  the  Lord,  O  foolish  people  and  unwise  ?  Is 
not  he  thy  Father  that  bought  thee  ?  Hath  he  not  made  thee, 
and  established  thee  ?  "  And  the  prodigal  could  call  him  Father 
for  his  encouragement  before  he  returned  to  him ;  Luke  xv. 
16 — 18.  For  my  own  part,  I  must  needs  profess  that  my  soul 
liath  more  frequent  support  from  the  consideration  of  God's  gra- 
cious and  merciful  nature,  than  from  the  promise  itself. 

2.  Furthermore,  Suppose  you  were  graceless  at  the  present ; 
yet  is  it  not  an  exceeding  comfort,  that  there  is  one  of  such  infinite 
compassion  as  the  Lord  Christ,  who  hath  assumed  our  nature,  and 
is  come  down  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was  lost ;  and  is  more 
tender-hearted  to  poor  sinners  .than  we  can  possibly  conceive? 
Yea,  who  hath  made  it  his  office  to  heal,  and  relieve,  and  restore, 
and  reconcile.  Yea,  that  hath  himself  endured  such  temptations 
as  many  of  ours ;  "  For  we  have  not  a  High-Priest  which  cannot 
be  toiirhod  with  the  feelinirs  of  our   infirmities ;  but  was  in  all 


SPIBITITAI-    PEACH    .VM:    ('(iMFORT,  *269 

points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  without  sin.  Let  us,  therefore, 
(saith  the  Holy  Ghost,)  come  boldly  unto  the  throne  of  grace,  thai 
we  may  obtain  mercy,  and  find  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need;" 
Heb.  iv.  15,  16.  "  Forasmuch  as  the  children  were  partakers  (;f 
flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himself  likewise  took  part  with  them,  that 
he  might  destroy,  through  death,  him  that  had  the  power  of  deatli, 
that  is,  the  devil;  and  deliver  them,  who,  through  fear  of  death, 
were  all  their  lifetime  subject  to  bondage.  For  verily,  he  took 
not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  he  took  on  him  the  seed  of 
Abraham.  Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behoved  him  to  be  made 
like  unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful 
High-Priest  in  things  pertaining  to  God,  to  make  reconciliation  for 
the  sins  of  the  people.  For  that  he  himself  hath  suffered  being 
tempted,  he  is  able  to  succor  them  that  are  tempted;  "  Heb.  ii. 
14 — 18.  Have  you  discountenance  from  men  ?  Christ  had  much 
more.  Doth  God  seem  to  forsake  you  ?  So  he  did  by  Christ. 
Are  you  fain  to  lie  on  your  knees  crying  for  mercy  ?  Why,  Christ, 
in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  was  fain  to  offer  up  "  strong  cries  and 
tears  to  him  that  was  able  to  save  him.  And  was  heard  in  that 
he  feared."  It  seems  that  Christ  had  distressing  fears  as  well  as 
you,  though  not  sinful  fears.  Have  you  horrid  temptations? 
Why,  Christ  was  tempted  to  cast  himself  headlong,  and  to  worship 
the  devil,  for  worldly  preferment ;  yea,  the  devil  had  power  to 
carry  his  body  up  and  down  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  and  the 
top  of  a  mountain.  If  he  had  such  power  of  you,  would  you  not 
think  yourself  certainly  his  slave  ?  I  conclude,  therefore,  as  it  is 
an  exceeding  ground  of  comfort  to  all  the  sick  people  in  a  city,  to 
know  that  there  is  a  most  merciful  and  skillful  physician,  that  is 
easily  able  to  cure  them,  and  hath  undertaken  to  do  it  freely  for 
all  that  will  take  him  for  their  physician ;  so  is  it  a  ground  of  ex- 
ceeding comfort  to  the  worst  of  sinners,  to  all  sinners  that  are  yet 
alive,  and  have  not  blasphemed  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  know  what  a 
merciful  and  efficient  Savior  hath  undertaken  the  work  of  man's 
redemption. 

3.  Also,  suppose  that  you  are  graceless  ;  is  it  nothing  that  a  suffi- 
cient sacrifice  and  ransom  is  given  for  you  ?  This  is  the  very 
foundation  of  all  solid  peace.  I  think  this  is  a  great  comfort,  to 
know  that  God  looks  now  for  no  satisdiction  at  your  hand  ;  and 
that  the  number  or  greatness  of  your  sins,  as  such,  cannot  now  be 
your  ruin.  For  certainly  no  man  shall  perish  for  want  of  the  pay- 
ment of  his  ransom,  or  of  an  expiatory  sacrifice  for  sin,  but  only 
for  want  of  a  willing  heart  to  accept  him  that  hath  freely  ransomed 
them. 

4.  Also,  suppose  you  are  graceless ;  is  it  nothing  that  God  hath 


^ 

'^T  - 


2|0 


DIIIECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 


under  his  hand  and  seal  made  a  full  and  free  deed  of  gift,  to  you 
and  all  sinners,  of  Christ,  and  with  him  of  pardon  and  salvation  ? 
And  all  this  on  condition  of  your  acceptance  or  consent  ?  I  know 
the  despisers  of  Christ  shall  be  miserable  for  all  this.  But  for  yoa 
that  would  fain  have  Christ,  is  it  no  comfort  to  know  that  you  shall 
have  him  if  you  will  ?  And  to  find  this  to  be  the  sum  of  the  gos- 
pel ?  I  know  you  have  often  read  those  free  offers,  Rev.  xxii.  17, 
"  Whosoever  will,  let  him  take  of  the  water  of  life  freely."  "  Ho, 
every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  and  drink,"  &c.  Almost  all  that  I 
'have  hitherto  said  to  you  is  comprised  in  that  one  text,  John  iii.  IC, 
"  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Son,  that 
whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life." 

And  as  I  have  showed  it  you  in  the  causes,  what  comfort  even 
general  mercy  may  afford,  so  let  me  a  little  show  it  you  in  the  ef- 
fects. I  mean,  not  only  in  that  God  is  now  satisfied;  but  as  to 
yourself  and  every  sinner,  these  three  things  are  produced  hereby. 

1.  There  is  now  a  possibility  of  salvation  to  you.  And  certain- 
ly even  that  should  be  a  very  great  comfort.  1  know  you  will  meet 
with  some  divines,  who  will  tell  you  that  this  is  no  effect  of  Christ's 
death ;  and  that  else  Christ  should  die  for  God,  if  he  procured  him 
a  power  to  save  which  he  had  not  before.  But  this  is  no  better 
than  a  reproaching  of  our  Redeemer.  Suppose  that  a  traitor  had 
so  abused  a  king,  that  it  will  neither  stand  with  his  own  honor,  nor 
justice,  nor  laws,  to  pardon  him  ;  if  his  compassions  were  so  great, 
that  his  own  son  shall  suffer  for  him,  that  so  the  king  might  be 
capable  of  pardoning  him,  without  any  diminution  of  his  honor  or 
justice ;  were  it  not  a  vile  reproach,  if  this  traitor  should  tell  the 
prince  that  suffered  for  him, '  It  was  for  your  father  that  you  suffer- 
ed, to  procure  him  a  power  of  pardoning ;  it  was  not  for  me  ? '  It  is 
tme,  the  king  could  not  pardon  him,  without  satisfaction  to  his  hon- 
or and  justice.  But  this  was  not  through  any  impotency,  but  be- 
cause the  thing  was  not  fit  to  be  done,  and  so  was  morally  impos- 
sible. For  in  law  we  say,  dishonest  things  are  impossible.  And 
it  had  been  no  less  to  the  king  if  the  traitor  had  not  been  pardoned. 
So  it  is  in  our  case.  And  therefore  Christ's  sufierings  could  not 
be  more  eminently  for  us,  than  by  enabling  the  offended  Majesty 
to  forgive  us ;  and  so  taking  the  greatest  impediment  out  of  the 
way.  For  when  impediments  are  once  removed,  God's  nature  is 
so  gracious  and  prone  to  mercy,  that  he  would  soon  pardon  us 
when  once  it  is  fit  to  be  done,  and  so  morally  possible  in  the  fullest 
sense  ;  only  men's  own  unwillingness  now  stands  in  the  way,  and 
makes  it  to  be  not  fully  fit  to  be  yet  done.  It  is  tme,  in  a  remote 
sense,  the  pardon  of  sin  was  always  possible ;  but  in  the  nearest 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  261 

sense,  it  was  impossible,  till  Christ  made  it  possible  by  his  satis- 
faction. 

2.  Nay,  though  you  were  yet  graceless,  you  have  now  this  com- 
fort, that  your  salvation  is  probable  as  well  as  possible.  You  are 
very  fair  for  it.  The  terms  are  not  hard  in  themselves,  on  which 
it  is  tendered.  For  Christ's  yoke  is  easy,  and  his  burden  is  light, 
and  his  commands  are  not  grievous.  "  The  word  is  nigh  you," 
even  the  offer  of  grace.  You  need  not  say,  "  Who  shall  ascend 
to  heaven,  or  go  down  to  hell?"  Rom.  x.  But  this  will  appear 
an  the  next. 

3.  Yea,  this  exceeding  comfort  there  is,  even  for  them  that  are 
graceless,  that  their  salvation  is  conditionally  certain,  and  the  con- 
dition is  but  their  owm  willingness.  They  may  all  have  Christ  and 
life  if  they  will.  Now  I  desire  you  in  all  your  doubts,  that  you  will 
well  consider  and  improve  this  one  truth  and  ground  of  comfort. 
Would  you,  in  the  midst  of  your  groans,  and  complaints,  and  fears, 
take  it  for  a  small  mercy,  to  be  certain  that  you  shall  have  Christ 
if  you  will  ?  When  you  are  praying  for  Christ  in  fear  and  anguish 
of  spirit,  if  an  angel  or  voice  from  heaven  should  say  to  you,  '  It 
shall  be  unto  thee  according  to  thy  will ;  if  thou  wilt  have  Christ 
and  live  in  him,  thou  shalt ; '  would  this  be  no  comfort  to  you  ? 
Would  it  not  revive  you  and  overcome  your  fears  ? 

By  this  time,  I  hope  you  see  what  abundance  of  comfort  gene- 
ral mercy  or  grace  may  afford  the  soul,  before  it  perceive  (yea,  or 
receive)  any  special  grace ;  though  few  of  those  that  receive  not 
special  grace  can  make  use  of  general,  yet  it  is  propounded  to  them 
as  well  as  others. 

1.  All  the  terrifying  temptations  which  are  grounded  on  misrep- 
resentations of  God,  as  if  he  were  a  cruel  destroyer  to  be  fled  from, 
are  dispelled  by  the  due  consideration  of  his  goodness,  and  the 
deep-settled  apprehensions  of  his  gracious,  merciful,  lovely  nature, 
(which  indeed  is  the  first  work  of  true  religion,  and  the  very  master 
radical  act  of  true  grace,  and  the  chief  maintainer  of  spiiitual  life 
and  motion.) 

2.  All  these  temptations  are  yet  more  effectually  dispelled,  by 
considering  this  merciful  divine  nature  dwelling  in  flesh,  becoming 
man,  by  condescending  to  the  assumption  of  our  human  nature  ; 
and  so  come  near  us,  and  assuming  the  office  of  being  the  Media- 
tor, the  Redeemer,  the  Savior  of  the  world. 

3.  All  your  doubts  and  fears  that  proceed  from  your  former  sins, 
whether  of  youth  or  of  age,  of  ignorance  or  of  knowledge,  and  those 
which  proceed  from  your  legal  unworthiness,  have  all  a  present 
remedy  in  the  fullness  and  sufficiency  of  Christ's  satisfaction,  even 
for  all  the  world  ;  so  that  no  sin  (except  the  excepted  sin)  is  so 
great,  })ut   it   is  fully  satisfied   for;  and  thoiigh  you  are  unworthy, 


262  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

yet  Christ  is  worthy ;  and  he  came  into  the  world  to  save  only  the 
unworthy,  (in  the  strict  and  legal  sense,) 

4.  All  your  doubts  and  fears  that  arise  from  an  apprehension  of 
God's  unwillingness  to  show  you  mercy,  and  to  give  you  Christ  and 
life  in  him,  arise  from  the  misapprehensions  of  Christ's  unwilling- 
ness to  be  yours ;  or  at  least  from  the  uncertainty  of  his  willing- 
ness ;  these  have  all  a  sufficient  remedy  in  the  general  extent  and 
tenor  of  the  new  covenant.  Can  you  doubt  whether  God  be  willing 
to  give  you  Christ  and  life,  when  he  had  given  them  already,  even 
by  a  deed  of  gift  under  his  hand,  and  by  a  law  of  grace  ?  1  John 
V.  10—12. 

Object.  '  But  yet  all  are  not  pardoned,  and  possessed  of  Christ, 
and  so  saved.' 

Answ.  I  told  you,  that  is  because  they  will  not ;  so  that  (I  pray 
you  mark  it  well)  God  hath,  in  these  four  means  before  mentioned, 
given  even  to  the  graceless  so  much  ground  of  comfort,  that  noth- 
ing but  their  unwillingness  to  have  Christ  is  left  to  be  their  terror. 
For  though  sin  be  not  actually  remitted  to  them,  yet  it  is  condi- 
tionally remitted,  viz.  If  they  will  but  accept  of  Christ  offered  them. 
Will  you  remember  this,  when  your  doubts  are  greatest,  and  you 
conclude,  that  certainly  Christ  is  not  yours,  because  you  have  no 
true  grace  ?  Suppose  it  to  be  true,  yet  still  know,  that  Christ  may 
be  yours  if  you  will,  and  when  you  will.  This  comfort  you  may 
have  when  you  can  find  no  evidences  of  true  grace  in  yourself. 
So  much  for  that  direction. 

Direct.  VIII.  The  next  thing  that  you  have  to  do,  for  building 
up  a  stable  comfort,  and  settling  your  conscience  in  a  solid  peace, 
is  this ;  '  Be  sure  to  get  and  keep  a  right  understanding  of  the  na- 
ture of  saving  faith.' 

As  you  must  have  right  thouglits  of  the  covenant  of  grace,  (of 
which  before,)  the  want  thereof  doth  puzzle  and  confound  very 
many  Christians ;  so  you  must  tje  sure  to  have  right  thoughts  of 
the  condition  of  the  covenant.  For  indeed  that  grace,  which 
causeth  you  to  perform  this  condition,  is  your  first  special  saving 
grace,  which  you  may  take  as  a  certain  evidence  of  your  justifica- 
tion. And  this  condition  is  the  very  link  which  conjoineth  all  the 
general  foregoing  grace  to  all  the  rest  of  the  following  special  grace. 
The  Scripture  is  so  fiill  and  plain  in  assuring  pardon  and  salvation 
to  all  true  believers,  that  if  you  can  be  sure  you  are  a  believer, 
you  need  not  make  any  doubt  of  your  interest  in  Christ,  and  your 
salvation.  Seeing  therefore  that  all  the  question  will  be.  Whether 
you  have  true  faith  ?  whether  you  do  perform  the  condition  of 
the  new  covenant  ?  (for  all  other  doubts  God  hath  given  you  suffi- 
cient ground  to  resolve,  as  is  said,)  how  much  then  doth  it  concern 
you  to  have  a  right  understanding  of  the  nature  of  this  faith  ? 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFOIIT.  263 

Which  that  you  may  have,  let  me  tell  you  briefly  what  it  is. 
Man's  soul  hath  two  facuhies,  understanding  and  will :  according- 
ly the  objects  of  man's  soul  (all  beings  which  it  is  to  receive)  have 
two  modifications  ;  truth  and  goodness,  (as  those  to  be  avoided  are 
evil.)     Accordingly  God's  word  or  gospel  hath  two  parts;    the 
revelation  of  truth,  and  the  offer  and  promise  of  some  good.     This 
offered  good  is  principally  and  immediately  Christ  himself,  to  be 
joined  to  us  by  covenant,  as  our  Head  and  Husband.     The  secon- 
dary  consequential    good   is    pardon,  justification,  reconciliation, 
adoption,  further  sanctificatlon  and  glorification,  which  are  all  offered 
with  Christ.    By  this  you  may  see  what  saving  faith  is :  it  is,  first, 
a  believing  that  the  gospel  is    true  ;   and  then  an  accepting  of 
Christ  therein  offered  to  us,  with  his  benefits  ;  or  a  consenting  that 
he  be  ours,  and  we  be  his ;  which  is  nothing  but  a  true  willingness 
to  have  an  offered  Christ.     Remember  this  well,  that  you  may 
make  use  of  it,  when  you  are  in  doubt  of  the  truth  of  your  faith. 
Thousands  of  poor  souls  have  been  in  the  dark,  and  unable  to  see 
themselves  to  be  believers,  merely  for  want  of»knowing  what  saving 
faith  is.     The  Papists  place  almost  all  in  the  mere  assent  of  the 
understanding.     Some  of  the  Reformers  made  it  to  be  either  an 
assurance  of  the  pardon  of  our  own  sins,  or  a  strong  persuasion  of 
their  pardon,  excluding  doubting ;  or  (the  most  moderate)  a  per- 
suasion of  our  particular  pardon,  though  mixed  with  some  doubting. 
The  Antinomians  strike  in  with  them,  and  say  the  same.     Hence 
some  divines  conclude,  that  justification  and  remission  go  before 
faith,  because  the  act  doth  always  suppose  its  object.     For  they 
thought  that  remission  already  past  was  the  object  of  justifying 
faith,  supposing  faith  to  be  nothing  else  but  a  belief  that  w:e  are 
pardoned.     Yea,  ordinarily,  it  hath  been  taught  in  the  writings  of 
our  greatest  refuters  of  the  Papists,  '  That  this  belief  is  properly 
a  divine  faith, or  the  beliefof  a  divine  testimony,  as  is  the  believing 
of  any  proposition  written  in  the  Scripture  (a  foul  error  which  1  have 
confuted  in  my  Book  of  Rest,  part  iii.  chap,  vii.)    Most  oflate  have 
come  nearer  the  truth,  and  afiirmed  justifying  faith  to  consist  in 
affiance,  or  recumbency,  or  resting  on  Christ  for  salvation.     No 
doubt  this  is  one  act  of  justifying  faith,  but  not  that  which  a  poor, 
troubled  soul  should  first  search  after  and  try  itself  by,  (except  by 
affiance,  any  should  mean,  as  Amesius  doth,  election  of  Christ,  and 
then  it  is  the  same  act  which  I  am  asserting,  but  very  unfitly  ex- 
pressed.)    For,  (1.)  Affiance  is  not  the  principal   act,  nor  that 
wherein  the  very  life  of  justifying  faith  doth  consist,  but  only  an 
imperate  allowing  act,  and  an  effect  of  the  vital  act,  (which  is  con- 
sent, or  willing,  or  accepting  Christ  offered  ;)  for  it  lieth  mainly  in 
that  which  we  call  the  sensitive  part,  or  the  passions  of  the  soul. 
(2.)     It  is  therefore  less  constant,  and  so  unfitter  to  try  by.     For 


264 


DIRECTIONS    FOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 


many  a  poor  soul  that  knows  itself  unfeignedly  willing  to  have 
Christ,  yet  feeleth  not  a  resting  on  him,  or  trusting  in  him,  and 
therefore  cries  out,  '  O,  I  cannot  believe  ; '  and  think  they  have  no 
faith.     For  recumbency,  affiance,  or  resting   on  Christ,  implieth 
that  easing  of  themselves,  or  casting  off  their  fears,  or  doubts,  or 
cares,  which  true  believers  do  not  always  find.     Many  a  poor  soul 
complains,  '  O,  I  cannot  rest  on  Christ ;  I  cannot  trust  him  ! '  who 
yet  would  have  him  to  be  their  Lord  and  Savior,  and  can  easily 
be  convinced  of  their  willingness.     (3.)  Besides,  affiance  is  not 
the  adequate  act  of  faith,  suited  to  the  object  in  that  fullness  as  it 
must  be  received,  but  willingness  or  acceptance  is.     Christ  is  rest- 
ed on  not  only  for  ourselves  as  our  Deliverer,  but  he  is  accepted  also 
for  himself  as  our  Lord  and  Master.     The  full  proof  of  these  I  have 
performed  in  other  wi'itings,  and  oft  in  your  hearing  in  public,  and 
therefore  omit  them  now.     Be  sure  then  to  fix  this  truth  deep  in 
your  mind,  '  That  justifying  faith  is  not  an  assurance  of  our  justifi- 
cation ;  no,  nor  a  persuasion  or  belief  that  we  are  justified  or  par- 
doned, or  that  Chrisf  died  more  for  us  than  for  others.     Nor  yet 
is  affiance  or  resting  on  Christ  the  vital  principle,  certain,  constant, 
full  act ;  but  it  is  the  understanding's  belief  of  the  truth  of  the  gos- 
pel, and  the  will's  acceptance  of  Christ  and  life  offered  to  us  there- 
in ;  which  acceptance  is  but  the  hearty  consent  or  willingness  that 
he    be   yours,  and  you  his.     This  is  the  faith  which  must  justify 
and  save  you. 

Object.  But,  'May  not  wicked  men  be  willing  to  have  Christ? 
And  do  not  you  oft  tell  us  that  justifying  faith  comprehends  love  to 
Christ  and  thankfulness,  and  that  it  receiveth  him  as  a  Lord  to  be 
obeyed,  as  well  as  a  DeHverer?  And  that  repentance  and  sincere 
obedience  are  parts  of  the  condition  of  the  new  covenant  ? ' 

Answ.  I  will  give  as  brief  a  touch  now  on  these  as  may  be,  be- 
cause I  have  handled  them  in  fitter  places. 

L  Wicked  men  are  willing  to  have  remission,  justification,  and 
freedom  from  hell,  (for  no  man  can  be  willing  to  be  unpardoned,  or 
to  be  damned ;)  but  they  are  not  willing  to  have  Christ  himself  in 
that  nature  and  office  which  he  must  be  accepted  ;  that  is,  as  an 
holy  Head  and  Husband  to  save  both  from  the  guilt  and  power,  and 
all  defilement  and  abode  of  sin,  and  to  rule  them  by  his  law,  and 
guide  them  by  his  Spirit,  and  to  make  them  happy  by  bringing 
them  to  God,  that,  being  without  sin,  they  may  be  perfectly  pleas- 
ing and  amiable  in  his  sight,  and  enjoy  him  forever.  Thus  is  Christ 
offered,  and  thus  to  be  accepted  of  all  that  will  be  saved ;  and  thus 
no  wicked  man  will  accept  him,  (but  when  he  ceaseth  to  be  wick- 
ed.) 2.  To  cut  all  the  rest  short  in  a  word,  I  say.  That  in  this 
fore-described  willingness  or  acceptance,  repentance,  love,  thankful- 
ness, resolution  to  obey,  are  all  contained,  or  nearly  implied,  as  I 


SPIRITUAT,    I'KACE    AND    t  OMrORT.  265 

have  elsewhere  manifested ;  so  that  tlie  heart  of  saving  faitli  is  tliis 
acceptance  of  Christ,  or  wilHngness  to  have  hhn  to  justify,  sanctify, 
guide  and  govern  you.  Find  but  this  wihingness,  and  you  find  all 
the  rest,  whether  you  expressly  see  them  or  not.  So  much  for 
that  direction. 

Direct.  IX.  Having  thus  far  proceeded,  in  discovering  and  im- 
proving the  general  grounds  of  comfort,  and  then  in  discovering  the 
nature  of  faith,  which  gives  you  right  to  the  special  mercies  of  the 
covenant  following  it ;  your  next  work  must  be,  '  To  perform  this 
condition  by  actual  believing.' 

Your  soul  stands  in  extreme  need  of  a  Savior.  God  oftereth 
you  a  Savior  in  the  gospel.  What,  then,  have  you  next  to  do  but 
to  accept  him  ?  Believe  that  this  ofl'er  is  general,  and  therefore  to 
you.  And  that  Christ  is  not  set  to  sale,  nor  doth  God  require  you 
to  bring  a  price  in  your  hand,  but  only  heartily  and  thanldully  to 
accept  of  what  he  freely  giveth  you.  This  must  be  done  before 
you  fall  on  trying  your  graces  to  get  assurance,  for  you  must  have 
grace  before  you  can  discover  it ;  and  this  is  the  first  proper  special 
saving  grace,  (as  it  compriseth  that  knowledge  and  assent  which 
necessarily  go  before  it.)  This  is  not  only  the  method  for  those 
that  yet  never  believed,  but  also  for  them  that  have  lost  the  sense 
of  their  faith,  and  so  the  sight  of  their  evidence.  Believe  again, 
that  you  may  know  you  do  believe ;  or  at  least  may  possess  an  ac- 
cepted Savior.  When  God  in  the  gospel  bids  you  take  Jesus 
Christ,  and  beseecheth  you  to  be  reconciled  to  him,  what  will  you 
say  to  him?  If  your  heart  answer,  '  Lord,  I  am  wiUing,  I  will  ac- 
cept of  Christ  and  be  thankful ; '  why  then  the  match  is  made  be- 
tween Christ  and  you,  and  the  marriage-covenant  is  truly  entered, 
which  none  can  dissolve.  If  Christ  were  not  first  willing,  he  would 
not  be  the  suitor,  and  make  the  motion  ;  and  if  he  be  willing,  and 
you  be  willing,  what  can  break  the  match  ?  If  you  w  ill  say,  '  I 
cannot  believe  ; '  if  you  understand  what  you  say,  either  you  mean 
that  you  cannot  believe  the  gospel  is. true,  or  else  that  you  cannot 
be  willing  that  Christ  should  be  yours.  If  jt  be  the  fonner,  and  you 
speak  truly,  then  you  are  a  flat  infidel ;  (yet  many  temptations  to 
doubt  of  the  truth  of  Scripture  a  true  believer  may  have,  yea,  and 
actual  doubtings ;  but  his  faith  prev'aileth,  and  is  victorious  over 
them ;)  but  if  you  really  doubt  whether  the  gosi)el  be  true,  use 
God's,  means  tor  the  discovery  of  its  truth.  Read  what  I  have 
written  in  the  second  paitof  my  Book  of  Rest.  I  will  andertake 
now  more  confidently  than  ever  I  did,  to  prove  the  truth  of  Scrip- 
ture by  plain,  full,  undeniable  force  of  reason.  But  I  suppose 
this  is  none  of  your  case.  If,  therefore,  when  you  say,  that  you 
cannot- believe,  you  mean,  that  von  cannot  ar-wpt  an  offered  Christ, 
or  be  willing  to  liave  h.ini ;  then  I  flcniantl.  ( I .)   What  is  your  rea- 


266  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND  "KEEPING  # 

son  ?  The  will  is  led  by  the  reason  of  the  understanding.  If  you 
be  not  willing,  there  is  soniething  that  persuades  you  to  be  unwill- 
ing. This  reason  must  be  from  something  real,  or  else  upon  a  mis- 
take, upon  supposal  of  something  that  is  Jiot  in  being.  If  it  be 
upon  mistake,  either  it  is  that  you  be  not  convinced  of  Christ's 
willingness  to  be  yours  ;  and  if  you  thought  he  did  consent,  you 
would  consent  willingly  ;  if  this  be  it,  you  do  truly  believe  while 
you  think  you  do  not ;  for  you  do  consent,  (and  that  is  all  on  your 
part  to  make  the  match,)  and  Christ  doth  certainly  consent,  though 
you  do  not  understand  it.  In  this  case  it  concerneth  you  to  un- 
derstand better  the  extent  of  the  new  covenant,  and  then  you  will 
be  past  doubt  of  the  willingness  ofChrist,  andsee  that  wherever  the 
match  breaks,  it  is  only  for  want  of  consent  in  men ;  for  Christ  Is 
the  first  suitor,  and  hath  long  ago  in  the  covenant  proclaimed  his 
consent  to  be  the  Head  and  Husband  of  every  sinner,  on  condition 
they  will  but  consent  to  be  his. 

If  your  mistake  be  from  any  false  apprehension  of  the  nature  of 
Christ,  as  if  he  were  not  a  sufficient  Savior,  or  were  an  enemy  to 
your  comfort,  that  he  would  do  you  more  harm  than  good  ;  if  these 
mistakes  are  prevalent,  then  you  do  not  know  Christ,  and  therefore 
must  presently  better  study  him  in  the  gospel,  till  you  have  pre- 
vailed over  such  ignorant  and  blasphemous  conceits ;  (but  none  of 
this,  I  suppose,  is  your  case.) 

If,  then,  the  reason  why  you  say  you  cannot  believe,  be  from  any 
thing  that  is  really  in  Christ,  (and  not  upon  mistake,)  then  it  must 
be  either  from  some  disHke  of  his  saving  work,  by  winch  he  would 
pardon  you,  and  save  you  from  damnation,  (but  that  is  impossible, 
for  you  cannot  be  willing  to  be  damned  or  unpardoned,  till  you  lose 
your  reason ;)  or  else  it  is  from  a  dislike  of  his  work  of  sanctifica- 
tion,  by  which  he  would  cleanse  your  heart  and  life,  by  saving  you 
from  your  sinful  nature  and  actions  ;  some  grudging  against  Christ's 
holy  and  undefiled  laws  and  ways  will  be  in  the  best,  while  there  is 
that  flesh  in  them  which  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,  so  that  they  can- 
not do  the  things  they  would.  But  if  truly  you  have  such  a  dislike 
of  a  sinless  condition,  through  the  love  of  any  sin  or  creature,  that 
you  cannot  be  willing  to  ha\'e  Christ  to  cure  you,  and  cleanse  you 
from  that  sin,  and  make  you  holy ;  I  say,  if  this  be  true,  in  a  pre- 
vaihng  degree,  so  that  if  Christ  and  holiness  were  offered  you,  you 
would  not  accept  them,  then  it  is  certain  you  have  not  true  faith. 
And  in  this  case  it  is  easily  to  discern,  that  your  first  work  lieth 
not  in  getting  comfort  or  ease  to  your  troubled  mind  ;  but  in  getting 
better  conceits  of  Christ  and  a  holy  state  and  life,  that  so  you  may 
be  willing  of  Christ,  as  Christ  is  of  you,  and  so  become  a  true  be- 
liever. And  here  I  would  not  leave  you  at  that  loss  as  some  do,  as 
if  there  were  nothing  for  you. to  do  for  the  getting  of  feith  ;  for  cer- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    fOMFORT.  267 


talnly  God  hath  prescribed  you  means  for  that  end.  "  Faith  Com- 
eth by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  word  of  God  preached  ; "  Rom. 
X.  17.  i.  Therefore  see  that  you  wait  dihgently  on  this  ordinance 
of  God.  Read  the  Scriptures  daily,  and  searcli  theui  to  see 
Avliether  you  may  not  there  find  that  holiness  is  better  than  sin.  ii. 
And  however  some  seducers  may  tell  you,  that  wicked  men  ought 
not  to  pray,  yet  be  sure  that  you  lie  on  your  knees  before  God,  and 
importunately  beg  that  he  would  open  your  eyes,  and  change  your 
heart,  and  show  you  so  far  the  evil  of  sin,  and  the  want  and  wortli  of 
Christ  and  holiness,  that  you  may  be  unfeignedly  glad  to  accept 
his  offer. 

Ohjcct.  '  But  the  prayers  of  the  wicked  are  an  abomination  to 
the  Lord.' 

Ansiv.  (1 .)  You  must  distinguish  between  wicked  men,  as  ac- 
tually wicked,  and  going  on  in  the  prosecution  of  their  wickedness; 
and  wicked  men,  as  they  have  some  good  in  them,  or  are  doing  some 
good,  or  ara  attempting  a  return  to  God.  (2.)  You  must  dis- 
tinguish between  real  prayer  and  seeming  prayer.  (3.)  You  must 
distinguish  between  full  acceptance  of  prayer,  when  God  delighteth 
in  them,  and  an  acceptance  only  to  some  particular  end,, not  inti- 
mating the  acceptance  of  the  person  with  his  prayer ;  and  between 
acceptance  fully  promised  (as  certain)  and  acceptance  but  half 
promised  (as  probable.)  And  upon  these  distinctions  I  shall 
answer  your  objections  in  the  conclusion. 

1.  When  wicked  men  pray  to  God  to  prosper  them  in  their 
wickedness,  yea,  or  to  pardon  them  while  they  intend  to  go  on  in 
it,  and  so  to  give  them  an  indulgence  in  sin ;  or  when  they  thmk 
with  a  few  prayers  for  some  good,  which  they  can  endure,  to  put 
by  that  holiness  which  they  cannot  endure,  and  so  to  make  a  cloak 
for  their  rebellion,  these  prayers  are  all  an  abomination  to  the 
Lord. 

2.  -When  men  use  the  words  of  a  prayer,  without  the  desire  of 
the  thing  asked,  this  is  no  prayer,  but  equivocally  so  called,  as  a 
carcass  is  a  man  ;  and  therefore  no  wonder  if  God  abhor  that  prayer, 
which  is  truly  no  prayer. 

3.  God  hath  not  made  a  fidl  promise,  ascertaining  any  wicked 
man,  while  wicked,  that  he  will  hear  his  prayer;  for  all  such  prom- 
ises are  made  to  believers. 

4.  God  doth  never  so  hear  an  unbeliever's  prayer,  as  to  accept 
liis  person  with  his  prayer,  or  to  take  a  complacency  in  them.  So 
much  for  the  negative.  •    • 

Now  for  the  affirmative,  I  add  ;  1 .  Prayer  is  a  duty  which  God 
enjoined  even  wicked  men  ;  (I  could  prove  it  by  an  hundred  Scrip- 
ture texts.) 

2.  There  mav  be  some  good  desires  in  unbelievers,  which  they 


268  DIRECTIONS    FOK    GETTING    AND    KEEPING  , 

may  express  in  prayer,  and  these  God  may  so  far  hear  as  to  gi-ani 
them,  as  he  did  in  part  to  Ahab. 

3.  An  unbeliever  may  lie  under  preparing  grace,  and  be  on  his 
way  in  returning  towards  God,  though  yet  he  be  not  come  to  saving 
faith  ;  and  in  this  slate  he  may  have  many  good  desires,  and  such 
prayers  as  God  will  hear. 

4.  Though  God  have  not  flatly  engaged  himself  to  unbelievers, 
so  as  to  give  them  a  certainty  of  hearing  their  prayers,  and  gi^nng 
them  true  grace  on  the  improvement  of  their  naturals,  yet  he  hath 
not  only  appointed  them  this  and  other  means  to  get  grace,  but  also 
given  them  half  promises,  or  strong  probabilities  of  speeding,  so 
much  as  may  be  a  sufficient  encouragement  to  any  such  sinner  to 
call  on  God,  and  use'  his  means.  For  as  he  appointeth  not  any  vain 
means  to  man,  so  no  man  can  name  that  man  who  did  improve  his 
naturkls  to  the  utmost,  and  in  particular,  sought  God  in  prayer,  so 
far  as  a  natural  man  may  do,  who  yet  missed  of  grace,  and  was  re- 
jected :  (this  is  the  true  mean  between  Pelagianism  and»Antinomian- 
ism  in  this  point.) 

5.  When  God  calls  unbelievers  to  prayer,  he  withal  calls  them 
to  believe.  And  when  he  works  their  heart  to  prayer  by  that  call, 
he  usually  withal  works  them  to  believe,  or  at  least  towards  believ- 
ing. If  he  that  was  unwilling  to  have  Christ,  do  pray  God  to 
make  him  willing,  it  is  a  beginning  of  willingness  already,  and  the 
way  to  get  more  willingness.  In  prayer  God  useth  to  give  in  the 
thing  prayed  for,  of  tliis  kind. 

6.  Prayer  is  the  soul's  motion  God-ward :  and  to  say  an  unbe- 
liever should  not  pray,  is  to  say  he  should  not  turn  to  God ;  who 
yet  saith  to  the  wicked,  "  Seek  the  Lord  while  he  may  be  found, 
and  call  upon  him  while  he  is  near.  I^et  the  wicked  forsake  liis 
way,"  &c.  Isaiah  Iv.  6,  7. 

7.  Prayer  hath  two  parts  ;  desire  is  the  soul  of  it,  and  expression 
is  the  body.  The  soul  can  live  separated  from  the  body,  but  so 
cannot  the  body  separated  from  the  soul.  So  can  desire  without 
expression,  but  not  expression  .without  desire.  When  our  blind 
Antinomians  (the  great  subverters  of  the  gospel,  more  than  the 
law)  do  rail  against  ministers  for  persuading  wicked  men  to  pray, 
they  are  against  us  for  persuading  men  to  desire  that  they  pray  for; 
prayer  having  desire  for  its  sovil.  And  do' not  those  men  deserve 
to  be  exterminated  the  churches  and  societies  of  the  saints,  who 
dare  say  to  a  wicked  unbeliever,  '  Desire  not  faith  ?  Desire  not  to 
leave  thy  wickedness  ?  Desire  not  grace?  or  Christ?  or  God? 
and  that  v^^ill  proclaim  abroad  the  word  (as  I  have  oft  heard  of  them 
with  zealous  reproaches)  that  our  ministers  are  legalists,  seducers, 
ignorant  of  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  because  they  persuade 
poor  sinners  to  pray  for  faith,  grace,  and  Christ ;  that  i6,  to  desire 


.SPlRiTlIAL    I'KACn    AM)    COMFORT.  269 

these,  and  to  express  their, desires ;  which  in  effect  is  to  persuade 
them  to  repent,  beUeve  and  turn  to  God.  Indeed,  if  these  blind 
seducers  had  ever  heard  our  ministers  persuading  wicked  men  to 
dissemble  and  lie  to  God  and  ask  faith,  grace  and  Christ  with  their 
tongues,  but  not  desire  tiiem  in  their  hearts,  then  had  they  sufficient 
grounds  for  their  reviling  language.  But  1  have  been  too  long  c;i 
this.  I  may  therefore  boldly  conclude,  that  they  that  find  them- 
selves unbelievers,  that  is,  unwilling  to  have  Christ  to  deliver  them 
from  sin,  must  use  this  second  means  to  get  faith,  even  earnest,  fre- 
quent prayer  for  it  to  God. 

iii.  Let  ^uch  also  see  that  they  avoid  wicked,  seducing  compali}- 
and  occasions  of  sin  ;  and  be  sure  that  they  keep  company  with  men 
fearing  God,  especially  joining  with  them  in  their  holy  duties. 

iv.  Lastly,  let  such  be  sure  that  they  use  that  reason  which 
God  hath  given  them,  to  consider  frequently,  retiredly,  seriously,  of 
the  vanity  of  all  those  things  that  steal  away  their  hearts  from  Christ : 
and  of  the  excellency  of  holiness,  and  how  blessed^a  state  it  is  to 
have  nothing  in  us  of  heart  or  life  that  is  displeasing  to  God,  but  to 
be  such  as  he  taketh  full  delight  in;  also  of  the  certainty  of  the 
damnation  of  unbelievers,  and  the  intolerableness  of  their  torments; 
and  of  the  certainty  and  inconceivable  greatness  of  believers'  ever- 
lasting happiness.  If  wicked  unbelievers  would  but  do"  what  they 
can  in  daily,  serious,  deep  considering  of  these  things,  and  the  like, 
they  would  have  no  cause  to  despair  of  obtaining  faith  and  sanctifi- 
cation.  Believing  is  a  rational  act.  God  bids  you  not  to  believe 
any  thing  without  reason,  nor  to  accept  or  consent  to  any  thing 
without  full  reason  to  cause  you  to  consent.  Think  then  often  and 
soberly  of  those  reasons  that  should  move  you  to  consent,  and  of 
the  vanity  of  these  that  hinder  you  from  consenting,  and  this  is 
God's  way  for  you  to  olatain  faith  or  consent. 

Remember  then,  that  when  you  have  understood  and  impro\ed 
general  grounds  of  comfort,  (nay,  before  you  can  come  to  any  full, 
improvement  of  them,)  your  next  business  is  to-believe;  to  consent 
to  the  match  with  Christ,  and  to  take  him  for  your  Lord  and  Sa- 
vior. And  this  duty  must  be  looked  to  and  performed,  before 
you  look  after  special  comfort.  But  I  said  somewhat  of  this  before 
under  the  sixth  head,  and  therefore  will  say  no  move  now. 

Direct.  X.  When  you  liave  gone  thus  far,  your  soul  is  safe, 
and  you  are  past  your  greatest  dangers,  though  yet  you  arc  not 
past  your  fears  ;  .your  next  work  therefore  for  peace  and  comfort  is 
this;  'To  review  and  take  notice  of  your  own  faith,  and  thence- to 
gather  assurance  of  the  certainty  of  your  justification,  and  adoption, 
and  right  to  glory.' 

The  sum  of  this  direction  lieth  in  tliese  things : 

I.  See  that  vou  do  not  content  vourself  with  the  (itrempiitioiied 


♦ 
■V 


^270  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

general  comforts,  without  looking  after  assurance  and  special  com- 
*  forts.     The  folly  of  this  I  have  manifested  in  the  third  part  of  my 
Book  of  Rest,  about  Self-examination. 

2.  See  that  you  dream  not  of  finding  assurance  and  special  com- 
fort from  mere  _general  grounds.  This  is  the  delusion  of  many 
Antinomians,  and  most  of  pur  profane  people,  (who,  I  find,  are  com- 
monly of  the  Antinomian  faith  naturally,  without  teaching.)  For 
men  to  conclude  that  they  shall  certainly  be  saved,  merely  because. 
God  is  merciful,  or  Christ  is  tender-hearted  to  sinners,  and  would 
not  that  any  should  perish,  but  all  should  come  to  repentance ;  or 
because  God  delights  not  in- the  death  of  him  that  dieth,.but  rather 
that  he  repent  and  live  ;  or  because  Christ  died  for  them ;  or  be- 
cause God  hath  given  Christ  and  life  in  the  gospel  to  all,  on  con- 
dition of  believing ;  these  are  all  but  mere  delusions.  Much  com- 
fort, as  I  have  showed  you,  may  be  gathered  from  these  generals ; 
but  no  certainty  of  salvation  or '  special  comfort  can  be  gathered 
from  them  alone. 

3.  See  that'  you  reject  the  Antinomian  doctrine  or  dotage,  which 
would  teach  you  to  reject  the  trial  and  judging  of  your  state  by 
signs  of  grace  in  yourself,  and  tell  you  that  it  is  only  the  Spirit  that 
must  assure,  by  witnessing  your  adoption ;  I  will  further  explain 
this  caution  when  I  have  added  the  rest. 

4.  And  on  the  other  extreme,  do  not  run  to  marks  unseasonably, 
but  in  the  order  here  laid  down. 

5.  Nor  trust  to  unsafe  marks. 

6.  And  therefore  do  not  look  at  too  many ;  for  the  true  ones  are 
but  few.  I  do  but  name  these  things  to  you,  because  I  have  more 
fully  handled  them  in  my.  Book  of  Rest,  whither  I  must  refer  you. 
And  so  I  return  to  the  third  caution. 

I  have  in  the  forementioned  book  told  you,  what  the  office  of 
the  Spirit  is  in  assuring  us,  and  what  the  use  of  fnarks  are.  The 
Spirit  witnesseth  first  objectively,  and  so  the  Spirit  and  marks 
are  all  one.  For  it  is  the  Spirit  dwelling  in  us  that  is  the  witness 
or  proof  that  we  are  God's  sons ;  for  he  that  hath  not  his  Spirit  is 
none  of  his.  And  the  Spirit  is  not  discerned  by  us  in  its  essence, 
but  in  its  workings ;  and  therefore  to  discern  these  workings,  is  to 
discern  tlie  Spirit,  and  these  workings  are  marks  tliat  we  speak  of; 
so  that  the  Spirit  witnesseth  our  sonalilp,  as  a  reasonable  soul  wit- 
nesseth that  you  are  a  man  and  not  a  beast.  You  find  by  the  acts 
of  reason,  that  you  have  a  reasonable  soul,  and  then  you  know, 
that  having  a  reasonable  soul,  you  certainly  are  a  man.  So  you 
find  by  the  works  or  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  that  you  have  the  Spirit, 
(that  is,  by  marks ;  and  Paul  enumerates  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  to 
that  end,)  and  then,  by  finding  that  you  have  the  Spirit,  you  may 
certainly  know  that  you  are  the  child  of  God.     Also,  as  the  rea- 


SPIHITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMPORT.  271 

sonable  soul  is  its  own  discenier  by  the  help  of  the  body,  (while  it 
is  in  it,)  and  so  witnesseth  our- humanity  effectively  as  well  as  ob- 
jectively," (but  first-in  order  objectively,  and  next  effectively ;)  so 
doth  the  Spirit  effectively  discover  itself  to  the  soul,  by  illuminat- 
ing us  to  discern  it,  and  exciting  us  to  search,  and  giving  us  that 
spiritual  taste  and  feeling  of  its  workings,  and  so  of  its  presence, 
by  which  it  is  best  known.  But  still  it  witnesseth  objectively, 
fii-st,  and  its  effective  witnessing  is  but  the  causing  us  to  discern  its 
objective  witness.  Or  (to  speak  more  plainly)  the  Spirit  witness- 
es first  and  principally,  by  giving  us  tliose  graces  and  workings 
which  are  our  marks  ;  and  then,  secondly,  by  helping  us  to  find  and 
feel  those  workings  or  marks  in  ourselves  ;  and  then,  lastly,  by 
raising  comforts  in  the  soul  upon  that  discovery.  Take  heed 
therefore  of  expecting  any  such  inward  witness  of  the  Spirit,  as 
some  expect,  viz.  a  discovery  of  your  adoption  directly,  without 
first  discovering  the  signs  of  it  within  you,  as  if  by  an  inward  voice 
he  should  say  to  you^  '  Thou  art  a  child  of  God,  and  thy  sins  ai*e 
pardoned.' 

This  that  I  described  to  you,  is  the  true  witness  of  the  Spirit. 
This  mistake  is  so  dangerous,  that  I  had  thought  to  have  made  it 
a  peculiar  direction  by  itself,  to  warn  you  of  it ;  and  now  I  have 
gone  so  far  I  will  despatch  it  here.  Two  dangerous  consequents,  I 
find,  do  follow  this  unwarrantable  expectation  of  the  first  immediate 
efficient  revelation  that  we  are  adopted. 

1.  Some  poor  souls  have  languished  in  doubting  and  trouble, of 
mind  almost  all  their  days,  in  expectation  of  such  a  khid  of  witness 
as  the  Spirit  useth  not  to  give  ;  when  in  the  meantime  they  have 
sufficient  means  of  comfort,  and  knew  not  how  to  improve  them ; 
yea,  they  had  the  tme  witness  of  the  Spirit  in  his  inhabitation  and 
holy  workings,  and  did  not  know  it ;  but  run  as  Samuel  did  to  Eli, 
not  knowing  the  voice  of  God  ;  and  look  for  the  Spirit's  testimony 
when  they  had  it,  as  the  Jews  for  Elias  and  the  Messias. 

2.  Others  do  more  dangerously  err,  by  taking  the  strong  conceit 
of  their  own  fantasy  for  the  witness  of  the  Spirit ;  as  soon  as  they 
do  but  entertain  the  opinion  that  it  must  be  such  a  witness-  of  the 
Spirit,  without  the  use  of  marks,  that  must  assure  men  of  their 
adoption,  presently  they  are  confident  that  they  have  the  witness 
in  themselves.  It  is  scarce  likely  to  be  God's  Spirit  that  is  so 
ready  upon  the  mere  change  of  an  opinion*  The  devil  useth  to 
do  as  much  to  cherish  presumption,  as  to  destroy  true  faith  and 
assurance.  It  is  a  shrewd  sign  tiiat  our  persuasions  of  our  truth  of 
grace  is  a  delusion,  when  we  find  the  devil  a  friend  to  ii,  and  help- 
ing it  on.  And  it  is  a  probable  sign  it  is  a  good  })ersuasion,  when 
we  find  the  devil  an  enemy  to  it,  and  still  troubling  us  and  eaideav- 
oring  our  disquiet. 


^72  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

And  here  1  remember  the  scruple  that  troubleth  some  about  the 
spirit  of  bondage,  and  the  spu'it  of-  adoption.  But  you  must  un- 
derstand, that  by  the  spirit  of  bondage  is  meant  that  spirit  and 
those  operations  on  the  soul  which  the  law  of  works  did  naturally 
beget  in  those  that  were  under  it ;  which  was  to  be  partly  in 
bondage,  to  a  task  of  ceremonious  duties,  and  partly  to  the  curse 
and  obligation  to  punishment  for  disobedience,  without  any  power 
to  justify.  They  were  said  therefore  to  be  in  bondage  to  the  law ; 
and  the  law  was  said  to  be  a  yoke,  which  neither  they  nor  their 
fathers  were  able  to  bear ;  Acts  xv. 

And  by  the  spirit  of  adoption  is  meant,  1.  That  spirit,  or  those 
■qualifications  or  workings  in  their  souls,  which  by  the  gospel  God 
giveth  only  to  his  sons.  2.  And  which  raise  in  us  some  childlike 
affections  to  God,  inclining  us  in  all  our  wants  to  run  to  him  in 
prayer,  as  to  a  Father,  and  to  make  our  moan  to  him,  and  open 
our  griefs,  and  cry  for  redress,  and  look  to  him,  and  depend  on  him 
as^a  child  on  the  father.  This  spirit  of  adoption  you  may  have, 
and  yet- not  be  certain  of  God's  special  love  to  you.  The  knowl- 
edge only  of  his  general  goodness  and  mercy,  may  he,  a  means  to 
raise  in  you  true  childlike  affections.  You  may  know  God  to  have 
fatherly  inclinations  to  you,  and  yet  doubt  whether  he  will  use  you 
as  a  child,  for  want  of  assurance  of  your  own  sincerity.  And  you 
may  hope  God  is  your  Father,  when  yet  you  may  apprehend  him 
to  be  a  displeased,  angry  father,  and  so  he  may  be  more  your  teiTor 
than  your  comfort.  Are  you  not  ready  in  most  of  your  fears,  and 
doubts,  and  troubles,  to  go  to  God  before  all  other  for  relief?  And 
doth  not  your  heart  sigh  and  groan  to  him,  when  you  can  scarcely 
speak  ?  Doth  not  your  troubled  spirit  there  find  its  first  vent  ?  and 
say,  '  Lord,  kill  me  not ;  forsake  rae  not ;  my  life  is  in  thy  hands ; 
O  soften  this  hard  heart ;  make  this  carnal  mind  more  spiritual ! 
O  be  not  such  a  stranger  to  my  soul !  Wo  to  me  that  I  am  so  ig- 
norant of  thee  !  so  disaffected  to  thee  !  so  backward  and  disinclined 
to  holy  communion  with  thee !  Wo  to  me,  that  can  take  no  more 
pleasure  in  thee !  and  am  so  mindless  and  disregarddil  of  thee ! 
O  that  thou  wouldst  stir  up  in  "me  more  lively  desires,  and  workings 
of  my  soul  towards  thee !  and  suffer  me  not  to  lie  at  such  a  distance 
from  thee  ! '  Are  not  such  as  these  the  breathings  of  your  spirit? 
Why,  these  are  childlike  breathings  after  God !  This  is  crying 
'  Abba,  Father.'  This  is  the  work  of  the  spirit  of  adoption,  eVen 
when  ^  you  fear  God  will  cast  you  off.  You  much  mistake  (and 
ihose  that  tell  you  so)  if  you  think  that  the  spirit  of  adoption  lieth 
only  in  a  persuasion  that  you  are  God's  child,  or  that  you  may  not 
h;ue  the  spirit  of  adoption,  without  such  a  persuasion  of  God's 
adopting  you.  For  God  may  adopt  you,  and  give  you  that  ^irit 
~.\liicli  lie  gives  only  \o  his  children,  and  possess  you  with  true  filial 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  273 

affections  towards  him,  before  ever  you  know  yourself  to  be  adopt- 
ed ;  much  more,  though  you  may  have  frequent  returning  doubts 
of  your  adoption. 

Having  thus  showed  you  how  far  you  may  expect  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  and  how  far  you  may  and  must  make  use  of  marks  and 
quahfications,  or  actions  of  your  own,  for  the  obtaining  of  assurance 
and  settled  peace,  1  shall  add  an  answer  to  the  principal  objections 
of  the  Antinomians  against  this. 

Object.  They  say.  This  is  to  draw  men  from  Christ  to  them- 
selves, and  from  the  gospel  to  the  law ;  to  lay  their  comforts,  and 
build  their  peace  upon  any  thing  in  themselves,  is  to  forsake  Christ, 
and  make  themselves  their  own  saviors :  and  those  teachers  that 
persuade  them  to  this,  are  teachers  of  the  law,  and  false  prophets, 
who  draw  men  from  Christ  to  themselves.  All  our  own  righteous- 
ness is  as  filthy  rags,  and  our  best  works  are  sin ;  and  therefore  we 
may  not  take  up  our  assurance  or  comforts  from  them.  We  shall 
be  always  at  uncertainties,  and  at  a  loss,  or  inconstant,  up  and  down 
in  our  comforts,  as  long  as  we  take  them  from  any  signs  in  our- 
selves :  also  our  own  graces  are  imperfect,  and  therefore  unfit  to  be 
the  evidences  for  our  assurance. 

Ansio.  Because  I  am  not  now  purposely  confuting  the  Antino- 
mians, but  only  forearming  you  against  their  assaults ;  I  shall  not 
therefore  give  you  half  that  1  should  otherwise  say,  for  the  expli- 
cation of  this  point,  and  the  confutation  of  their  errors,  but  only  so 
much  as  is  necessary  to  your  preservation ;  which  I  do,  because 
they  pretend  to  be  the  only  preachers  of  free  grace,  and  the  only 
right  comforters  of  troubled  consciences  ;  and  because  they  have 
written  so  many  books  to  that  end,  which,  if  they  fall  into  your 
hands,  may  seem  so  specious,  as  that  you  may  need  some  preserva- 
tive. I  suppose  you  remember  what  I  have  taught  you  so  oft,  con- 
cerning the  difference  of  the  law  of  works,  and  the  law  of  grace, 
with  their  different  conditions.  Upon  which  supposition  I  expli- 
cate the  point  thus:  1.  No  man  may  look  at  his  own  graces  or 
duties  as  his  legal  righteousness  ;  that  is,  such  as  for  which  the  law 
of  works  will  pronounce  him  righteous.  2.  Nor  yet  may  he  take 
them  for  part  of  his  legal  rigliteousness,  in  conjunction  with  Christ's 
righteousness,  as  the  other  part ;  but  here  we  must  go  wholly  out 
of  ourselves,  and  deny  and  disclaim  all  such  righteousness  of  our 
own.  We  have  no  works  which  make  the  reward  to  be  not  of 
gi-ace,  but  of  debt.  3.  We  must  not  once  think  that  our  graces, 
duties  or  sufferings,  can  make  satisfaction  to  God's  justice  for  our 
sin  and  unrighteousness;  nor  yet  that  they  are  any  part  of  that 
satisfaction.  Here  we  ascribe  all  to  Christ,  who  is  the  only  sacri- 
fice and  ransom.  4.  Nor  must  we  think  that  our  duties  or  graces 
are  properly  meritorious ;  this  also  is  to  be  left  as  the  sole  honor 
VOL.  I.  35 


274  DIRECTIONS    FOK    GETTINfi    AND    KEEPING 

of  Christ.  5.  Yet  that  we  may  and  must  raise  our  assurance 
and  comforts  from  our  own  graces  and  duties,  shall  appear  in  these 
clear  reasons  following,  which  show  also  the  grounds  on  which  we 
may  do  it. 

1.  Pardon,  justification,  and  adoption,  and  salvation,  are  all  given 
to  us  in  the  gospel  only  conditionally,  (if  we  beheve,)  and  the  con- 
dition is  an  act,  or  rather  several  acts  of  our  own.  Now,  till  the 
condition  be  performed,  no  man  can  have  any  certainty  that  the 
benefit  shall  be  his,  nor  can  he  by  any  other  means  (ordinarily)  be 
certain  of  the  benefit,  but  by  that  which  ascertains  him  that  he 
hath  performed  the  condition.  God  saith,  "  He  that  believetb 
shall  be  saved."  No  man  can  know,  then,  that  he  shall  be  saved, 
till  he  first  know  that  he  believeth.  Else  he  should  know  either 
contrary  to  that  which  is  written,  or  more  than  that  which  is  writ- 
ten ;  and  justification  and  adoption  should  be  given  some  other  way 
than  by  the  gospel  promise,  for  that  promise  giveth  them  only  con- 
ditionally, and  so  suspendeth  the  actual  right,  upon  the  perfonn- 
ance  of  the  condition.  But  if  any  can  show  any  other  way,  by 
which  God  maketh  over  pardon  and  adoption,  besides  the  gospel 
promise,  let  them  do  it ;  but  I  will  not  promise  suddenly  to  believe 
them,  for  it  was  never  yet  showed,  as  I  know  of.  Also,  if  men 
must  not  look  at  their  own  performance  of  the  condition,  to  prove 
their  right  to  the  benefit,  then  either  all  or  none  must  believe 
that  they  have  that  right;  for  the  promise  saith,  "  He  that  believ- 
eth shall  be  saved."  And  this  is  a  promise  of  life  conditionally  to 
all.  If  all  must  believe  that  they  shall  be  saved,  then  most  of  the 
world  must  believe  a  lie.  If  the  true  believer  may  not  therefore 
conclude  that  he  shall  be  saved,  because  he  performeth  the  condi- 
tion of  the  promise,  then  no  man  may  believe  it.  And  for  that 
absolute  promise  of  the  new  heart,  no  man  can,  or  may  believe 
that  it  is  his,  till  he  have  that  new  heart  which  it  promiseth  ;  that 
is,  till  it  be  fulfilled.  For  there  is  no  mark  by  which  a  man  can 
know  whether  that  promise  belong  to  him  or  no  beforehand,  and 
if  all  should  believe  that  it  belongs  to  them,  most  would  find  h  false. 
2.  God  'hath  not  redeemed  us  by  his  Son  to  be  lawless.  To  be 
without  law  is  to  be  without  government.  We  are  without  the 
law ;  that  is,  of  works  or  of  Moses,  but  not  without  law ;  Jesus 
Christ  is  our  ruler,  and  he  hath  made  us  a  law  of  grace ;  an  easy 
yoke,  and  commands  that  are  not  grievous.  This  law  hath  pre- 
cepts, promises  and  threats ;  it  must  needs  be  either  obeyed  or  dis- 
obeyed ;  and  so  the  penalty  must  be  due  or  not  due  ;  and  the 
reward  due  or  not  due.  He  that  performs  the  condition,  and  so 
to  whom  the  reward  is  due,  and  not  the  penalty,  is  righteous  in 
the  sense  of  this  law.  As  when  we  are  accused  to  bo  sinners 
against  the  law  of  works,  and  so  to  deserve  the  penalty  of  that  law. 


SPlRITUAl,    FKACE    AND    COn'ORT. 


■ri5  ^ 


we  must  confess  all,  and  plead  the  righteousness  of  Ciirist's  satis- 
faction for  our  justification.  So  when  we  are  accused  to  be  final 
unbelievers  or  impenitent,  and  so  not  to  have  performed  the  condi-r 
tions  of  the  new  covenant,  we  must  be  justified  by  our  own  faith 
and  repentance,  the  performance  of  that  condition  ;  and  must  plead 
not  guilty.  And  so  far  our  own  acts  are  our  evangelical  righteous- 
ness, and  that  of  such  necessity,  that  without  it  no  man  can  have 
part  in  Christ's  righteousness  nor  be  saved.  1  would  desire  any 
man  else  to  tell  me,  what  else  he  will  plead  at  judgment,  when  the 
accuser  chargeth  him  (or  if  he  do  so  charge  him)  with  final  unbe- 
lief? Will  he  confess  it  and  say,  '  Christ  hath  believed  and  re- 
pented for  me  ? '  That  is  as  much  as  to  say,  '  Christ  was  a  believer 
for  infidels,  that  he  might  save  infidels.'  AH  false.  If  he  will  not 
say  thus,  (and  lying  will  do  no  good,)  then  must  he  plead  his  own 
"believing  and  repenting,  as  his  righteousness,  in  opposition  to  that 
accusation.  And  if  it  be  of  such  use  then,  and  be  called  a  hun- 
dred times  in  Scripture,  'our  righteousness,"  and  we  righteous  for 
it,  then  doubtless  we  may  accordingly  try  by  it  now,  whether  we 
shall  then  be  able  to  come  oft'  and  be  justified,  or  no;  and  so  may 
build  our  comfort  on  it. 

3.  Conscience  is  a  witness  and  judge  within  us,  and  doth,  as 
under  God,  accuse  and  condemn,  or  excuse  and  acquit.  Now,  if 
conscience  must  absolve  us  only  so  far  as  we  are  innocent,  or  do 
well,  or  are  qualified  with  grace,  then  it  is  impossible  but  these  our 
qualifications  and  actions  should  be  some  ground  of  our  comfort. 
See  Acts  xxiv.  16.  xxiii.  1.  Rom.  ii.  15,  16. 

4.  Those  which  are  our  graces  and  works,  as  we  are  the  sub- 
jects and  agents,  are  the  graces  and  works  of  God,  of  Christ,  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  dwelling  in  us.  If,  therefore,  we  may  not  rejoice 
in  our  own  works,  or  graces,  then  we  may  not  rejoice  in  the  works 
or  gifts  of  God,  Christ,  or  the  Holy  Ghost.     And, 

5.  Our  graces  are  the  spiritual  life  or  health  of  the  soul,  and  our 
holy  actions  are  the  vital  operations.  Now,  life  and  health  are 
necessary ;  rejoicing,  delighting  things  of  themselves  ;  and  vital 
actions  are  necessarily  pleasant  and  delectable. 

6.  Our  gi'aces  and  holy  actions  must  needs  rejoice  us  in  respect 
of  their  objects  ;  for  the  object  of  our  love,  trust,  hope,  meditation, 
prayer,  conference,  &c.,  is  God  himself,  and  the  Lord  Jesus,  and 
the  joys  of  heaven.  And  how  can  such  actions  choose  but  re- 
joice us  I 

7.  Yea,  rejoicing  itself,  and  delighting  ourselves  in  God,  is  not 
only  one  part  of  our  duty,  but  that  great  duty  wherein  lieth  the 
height  of  our  Christianity.  And  how  vain  a  speech  is  it  to  say, 
that  we  may  not  take  up  our  comforts  from  oiu'  own  works,  nor 


276  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

rejoice  in  any  thing  of  our  own ;  when  even  rejoicing  itself,  and 
delighting  and  comforting  ourselves,  is  one  part  of  our  duty ! 

8.  As  God  in  Christ  is  the  chief  object  and  ground  of  our  com- 
fort, (so  that  we  must  rejoice  in  nothing  but  God,  and  the  cross  of 
Christ,  in  that  kind,  or  in  co-ordination  with  them ;)  so  it  is  the 
office  of  every  grace  and  holy  work,  and  ordinance,  and  means,  to 
be  subservient  to  Christ,  either  for  the  attaining  of  Christ,  or  ap- 
plying his  merits,  or  they  are  the  effects  of  his  merits.  Now,  if 
we  must  love  and  rejoice  in  Christ  principally,  then  must  we  needs 
love  and  rejoice  in  all  those  things  that  stand  in  a  necessary  subor- 
dination to  him,  in  their  places.  And  therefore  to  say,  '  W§  must 
rejoice  in  Christ  only,  and  therefore  not  in  any  graces  or  duties 
of  our  own,'  is  as  wise,  as  if  a  wife  should  cast  her  husband's 
clothes  and  meat  out  of  doors  and  say,  '  You  charged  me  to  admit 
none  into  my  chamber  but  yourself.'  Or  as  if  a  physician,  having 
told  his  patients,  '  I  will  cure  you,  if  you  will  trust  me  only  for  the 
cure ; '  thereupon  the  patients  should  cast  away  his  medicines,  and 
shut  the  doors  against  his  servants  and  apothecaries,  and  say,  '  We 
must  trost  none  but  the  physician.' 

9.  All  the  failings  of  our  duties  are  pardoned,  and  they  accepted 
in  Christ ;  and  therefore  we  may  rejoice  in  them. 

10.  Our  duties  have  a  double  tendency  to  our  salvation.  (1.) 
As  the  condition  to  which  God  hath  promised  it  as  the  crown  and 
reward,  (in  a  hundred  texts  of  Scripture,)  and  may  we  not  comfort 
ourselves  in  that  which  God  promiseth  heaven  to  ?  (2.)  As  a  nat- 
ural means  to  our  obedience  and  further  protection,  (as  watchful- 
ness, meditation,  fee.  tend  to  destroy  sin,)  as  Paul  saith  to  Timo- 
thy, "  Take  heed  to  thyself,  and  to  thy  doctrine,  and  in  so  doing, 
thou  shalt  both  save  thyself,  and  them  that  hear  thee ; "  1  Tim. 
iv.  16. ;  and  may  we  not  take  comfort  in  that  which  tends  to  save 
our  own  and  our  brethren's  souls  ? 

11.  We  shall  be  judged  according  to  our  works ;  therefore  we 
must  judge  ourselves  according  to  our  works  ;  and  so  must  judge 
our  state  good  or  bad,  according  to  our  works.  For  can  man  judge 
by  a  righter  way  than  God  will?  At  least  is  it  not  lawful  for  man 
to  judge  as  God  doth  ? 

12.  We  must  judge  of  others  in  probability,  according  to  their 
external  works,  even  the  tree  by  the  fruits;  therefore  we  must 
judge  of  ourselves  in  certainty,  according  to  our  internal  and  exter- 
nal works  together,  which  we  may  certainly  know. 

13.  If  we  may  not  rejoice  in  any  of  our  graces,  then  we  may  not 
be  thankful  for  them,  for  thankfulness  is  accompanied  with  joy ; 
but  we  must  be  thankful. 

14.  If  we  may  not  rejoice  in  our  duties,  we  may  not  repent  or 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  277 

sori'Dw  for  the  neglect  of  them ;  and  if  we  may  not  rejoice  In  our 
graces,  we  may'not  lament  the  want  of  them ;  (for  these  are  as  the 
two  ends  of  the  balance,  tliat  one  goes  down  when  the  other  goes 
up  ;  or  as  day  and  night,  light  and  darkness.)  But  the  consequent 
is  intolerable. 

15.  This  would  overthrow  all  religion.  For  what  a  man  cannot 
rejoice  in,  he  cannot  love,  he  cannot  esteem,  regard,  be  careful  to 
obtain,  be  fearful  of  losing,  he. 

16.  God  delighteth  in  our  graces  and  holy  duties,  and  is  well 
pleased  with  them ;  and  therefore  it  is  lawful  and  needful  that  we 
do  as  God  doth ;  Jer.  ix.  24.  Heb.  xi.  5.  Abel's  sacrifice  by 
faith  obtained  testimony  that  he  pleased  God.  "  To  do  good,  and 
to  communicate,  forget  not,  for  with  such  sacrifices  God  is  well 
pleased;  "  Heb.  xiii.  16. 

17.  The  saints  of  God  have  not  only  tried  themselves  by  their 
graces  and  duties,  and  commanded  others  to  try  by  them,  but  have 
gloried  and  rejoiced  in  their  duties  and  sufferings.  "  This  is  our 
rejoicing,  the  testimony  of  our  conscience,  that  in  simplicity  and 
godly  sincerity,  we  have  had  our  conversation  among  you  ; "  2  Cor. 
i.  12.  "  They  gloried  that  they  were  counted  worthy  to  suffer  for 
Christ ;  "  Acts  v.  41.  "I  have  therefore  whereof  I  may  glory  in 
Jesus  Christ,  in  those  things  which  pertain  to  God  ; "  Rom.  xv.  17. 
"  We  glory  in  tribulation,"  &c.  ;  chap.  v.  3.  "  Though  I  should 
desire  to  glory,  I  should  not  be  a  fool.  I  glory  in  mine  infirmities  ; " 
2  Cor.  xii.  6.  9.  "  Let  him  that  glorieth  glory  in  this,  that  he  un- 
derstandeth  and  knowetli  me  ;  "  Jer.  ix.  24.  "  I  had  rather  die  than 
any  should  make  my  glorying  void  ;  "  1  Cor.  ix.  15.  "  Let  every 
man  prove  his  own  work,  so  shall  he  have  rejoicing  in  himself 
alone,  and  not  in  another;  "  Gal.  vi.  4. 

18.  Scripture  nameth  many  of  our  own  graces  and  duties,  as  the 
certain  marks  of  our  justification  and  right  to  glory.  Even  Christ, 
with  his  own  mouth,  gives  us  many  ;  "  Where  your  treasure  is, 
there  will  your  heart  be  also;"  Matt.  vi.  21.  "He  that  doth 
evil  hateth  the  light, "  &lc.  John  iii.  10.  Matt.  v.  is  full  of  such  ; 
"  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  the  pure  in  heart,"  &c. 

19.  We  may  rejoice  in  other  men's  good  works  and  graces,  (and 
do,  if  we  be  true  Christians,)  therefore  in  our  own. 

20.  We  may  rejoice  in  God's  outward  mercies ;  therefore  much 
more  in  inward,  and  such  as  accompany 'salvation.  All  these  argu- 
ments prove,  that  we  may  take  up  our  comfort  from  our  own  gra- 
cious qualifications  and  actions,  (not  in  opposition  to  Chi'ist,  but  in 
subordination  to  him,)  and  most  of  them  prove  that  we  may  fetch 
our  assurance  of  salvation  from  them,  as  undoubted  evidences 
thereof. 

I  have  said  the  more  in  answer  to  these  objections,  (1.)  Because 


278         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

never  any  came  with  fairer  pretenses  of  exalting  Christ,  and  main- 
taining the  honor  of  his  righteousness  and  fi'ee  grace,  and  of  deny- 
ing ourselves  and  our  own  righteousness.  (2.)  And  yet  few  doc- 
trines more  dishonor  Christ,  and  destroy  the  very  substance  of 
religion.  Even  as  if  a  man  should  cry  down  him  that  would  praise 
and  commend  obedience  to  the  king,  and  say,  '  You  must  praise 
nothing  but  the  king. '  So  do  these  cry  down  our  lookmg  at,  and 
rejoicing  in  our  love  to  Christ,  and  our  thankfulness  to  him,  and 
our  obedience,  and  all  under  pretense  of  honoring  him.  Nay,  they 
will  not  have  us  rejoice  in  one  part  of  Christ's  salvation  (his  saving 
us  from  the  power  of  sin,  and  his  sanctifying  us)  under  pretense 
that  we  dishonor  the  other  part  of  his  salvation  (his  justifying  us.) 
If  ever  Satan  transformed  himself  into  an  angel  of  light,  and  his 
ministers  into  ministers  of  light,  it  is  in  the  mistakes  of  the  Antino- 
mians ;  and  no  people  in  the  world  (except  carnal  libertines,  whom 
this  doctrine  fits  to  a  hair)  are  in  more  danger  of  them,  than  poor, 
doubting  Christians,  under  trouble  of  conscience  ;  especially  if  they 
be  not  judicious,  and  skilled  in  the  doctrine  of  Christ.  For  the 
very  pretense  of  extolling  Christ  and  free  grace,  will  take  much 
with  such ;  and  any  new  way  will  sometimes  seem  to  give  them 
comfort,  upon  the  very  novelty  and  sudden  change. 

Having  thus  proved  that  you  may,  and  must  fetch  your  special 
comfort  and  assurance  from  evidences,  and  that  your  fii'st  evidence 
is  your  faith,  I  shall  open  this  more  fully  under  the  next  Direction. 

Direct.  XI.  In  the  trial  of  your  state,  '  Be  sure  that  you  make 
use  of  infallible  signs  of  sincerity,  and  take  not  those  for  certain 
which  are  not.' 

And  to  that  end  remember  what  I  said  before,  that  you  must 
well  understand  wherein  the  nature  of  saving  faith,  and  so  of  all 
saving  grace,  doth  consist.  And  when  you  understand  this,  write 
it  down  in  two  or  three  lines ;  and  both  at  your  fii'st  trial,  and  after- 
ward, whenever  any  doubts  do  drive  you  to  a  review  of  your  evi- 
dence, still  have  recourse  only  to  those  signs,  and  try  by  them. 
What  these  signs  are,  I  have  showed  you  so  fully  in  the  forecited 
place  in  my  Book  of  Rest,  that  I  shall  say  but  little  now.  Re- 
member that  infallible  signs  are  very  few  ;  and  that  whatsoever  is 
made  the  condition  of  salvation,  that  is  the  most  infallible  evidence 
of  our  salvation,  and  therefore  the  fittest  mark  to  try  by ;  and  there- 
fore faith  in  God  the  Father  and  the  Redeemer,  is  the  main  evi- 
dence. But  because  I  have  elsewhere  showed  you,  that  this  faith 
Ls  comprehensive  of  love,  gratitude,  resolution  to  obey,  and  repent- 
ance, let  me  more  particularly  open  it  to  help  you  in  the  trial.  To 
prove  any  grace  to  be  saving,  it  is  necessary  that  you  prove  that 
salvation  is  fully  promised  to  him  that  hath  it.  Now,  if  you  will 
know  what  it  is  that  hath  this  promise,  I  will  tell  you,  1.  As  to  the 


SPIRITCAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  279 

object.  2.  The  act.  3.  The  degree  or  modification  of  the  act. 
For  all  these  three  must  be  inquired  after,  if  you  will  get  assurance. 
1.  The  object  is  principally  God,  and  the  Redeemer  Christ.  And 
secondarily  the  benefits  given  by  Christ;  and  under  that,  the  means 
to  attain  the  princijfal  benefits,  &c.  2.  The  act  hath  many  names 
drawn  from  respective  and  moral  differences  in  the  object,  as  faith, 
desire,  love,  choosing,  accepting,  receiving,  consenting,  &ic.  But 
properly  all  are  comprised  in  one  word,  '  willing.'  The  under- 
standing's high  estimation  of  God,  and  Christ,  and  grace,  is  a  prin- 
cipal part  of  true  saving  grace  ;  but  yet  it  is  difficult  and  scarce  possi- 
ble to  judge  of  yourself  by  it  rightly,  but  only  as  it  discovers  itself 
by  prevailing  with  the  will.  3.  The  degree  of  this  act  must  be 
such  as  ordinarily  prevaileth  against  its  contrary  ;  I  mean,  both 
the  contrary  object  and  the  contrary  act  to  the  same  object.  But 
because  I  doubt  school  terms  do  obscure  my  meaning  to  you,  (though 
they  are  necessary  for  exactness,)  I  will  express  the  nature  of  sav- 
ing grace  in  two  or  three  markS  as  plain  as  I  can. 

I.  Are  you  heartily  willing  to  take  God  for  your  portion  ?  And 
had  you  rather  live  with  him  in  glory  in  his  favor  and  fullest  love, 
with  a  sou]  perfectly  cleansed  from  all  sin,  and  never  more  to  offend 
him,  rejoicing  with  his  saints  in  his  everlasting  praises,  than  to  enjoy 
the  delights  of  the  flesh  on  earth,  in  a  way  of  sin  and  without  the 
favor  of  God  ? 

II.  Are  you  heartily  willing  to  take  Jesus  Christ  as  he  is  offered 
in  the  gospel  ?  that  is,  to  be  your  only  Savior  and  Lord,  to  give  you 
pardon  by  his  bloodshed,  and  to  sanctify  you  by  his  word  and  Spirit, 
and  to  govei'n  you  by  his  laws  ? 

Because  this  general  containeth  and  implieth  several  particulars, 
I  will  express  them  distinctly. 

Here  it  is  supposed  that  you  know  this  much  following  of  the 
nature  of  his  laws.  For  to  be  willing  to  be  ruled  by  his  laws  iw 
general,  and  utterly  unwilling'when  it  comes  to  particulars,  is  no 
truewillingness  or  subjection.  1.  You  must  know  that  his  laws  reach 
both  to  heart  and  outward  actions.  2.  That  they  command  a  holy, 
spiritual,  heavenly  life.  3.  That  they  command  things  so  cross 
and  unpleasing  to  the  flesh,  that  the  flesh  will  be  still  murmuring- 
and  striving  against  obedience.  Particularly,  (1.)  They  command 
things  quite  cross  to  the  inclinations  of  the  flesh  ;  as  to  forgive  wrongs, 
to  love  enemies,  to  forbear  malice  and  revenge,  to  restrain  and  mor- 
tify lust  and  passion,  to  abhor  and  mortify  pride,  and  be  low  in 
our  own  eyes,  and  humble  and  meek  in  spirit.  (2.)  They  com- 
mand things  that  cross  the  interest  of  the  flesh  and  its  inclination 
both  together;  I  mean  which  will  deprive  it  of  its  enjoyments,  and 
bring  it  to  some  suffering.  As  to  perform  duties  even  when  they 
lay  us  open  to  disgrace,  and  shame,  and  reproach  in  the  world; 


280        DIRECTJONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

and  to  deny  our  credit,  rather  than  forsake  Christ  or  our  duty.  To 
obey  Christ  in  doing  what  he  commandeth  us,  though  it  would 
hazard  or  certainly  lose  our  wealth,  friends,  liberty,  and  life  itself; 
forsaking  all  rather  than  to  forsake  him ;  to  give  to  the  poor,  and 
other  good  uses,  and  that  liberally,  according  fo  our  abilities.  To 
deny  the  flesh  all  forbidden  pleasures,  and  make  not  provisions  to 
satisfy  its  lusts,  but  to  crucify  the  flesh,  with  the  affections  and  lusts 
thereof;  and  in  this  combat  to  hold  on  to  the  end,  and  to  overcome. 
These  are  the  laws  of  Christ,  which  you  must  know,  before'  you 
can  determine  whether  you  are  indeed  unfeignedly  willing  to  obey 
them.  Put  therefore  these  further  questions  to  yourself,  for  the 
trial  of  your  willingness  to  be  ruled  by  Christ  according  to  his  laws. 

III.  Are  you  heartily  willing  to  live  in  the  performance  of  those 
holy  and  spiritual  duties  of  heart  and  life,  which  God  hath  absolute- 
ly commanded  you  ?  And  are  you  heartily  sorry  that  you  perform 
them  no  better  ?  With  no  more  cheerfulness,  delight,  success, 
and  constancy  ?  • 

IV.  Are  you  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  worth  of  everlast- 
ing happiness,  and  the  intolerableness  of  everlasting  misery,  and 
the  truth  of  both ;  and  of  the  sovereignty  of  God  the  Father,  and 
Christ  the  Redeemer,  and  your  many  engagements  to  him  ;  and  of 
the  necessity  and  good  of  obeying,  and  the  evil  of  sinning,  that  you 
are  truly  willing,  that  is,  have  a  settled  resolution  to  cleave  to 
Christ,  and  obey  him  in  the  dearest,  most  disgraceful,  painful,  haz- 
ardous, flesh-displeasing  duties ;  even  though  it  should  cost  you  the 
loss  of  all  your  w  orldly  enjoyments,  and  your  life  ? 

V.  Doth  this  willingness  or  resolution  already  so  far  prevail  in 
your  heart  and  life,  against  all  the  interest  and  temptations  of  the 
world,  the  devil,  and  your  flesh,  that  you  do  ordinarily  practice  the 
most  strict  and  holy,  the  most  self-denying,  costly,  and  hazardous 
duties  that  you  know  God  requireth  of  you,  and  do  heartily  strive 
against  all  known  sin,  and  overcome  all  gross  sins ;  and  when 
you  fall  under  any  prevailing  temptation,  do  rise  again  by  re- 
pentance, and  begging  pardon  of  God,  through  the  blood  of 
Christ,  do  resolve  to  watch  and  resist  more  carefully  for  the  time 
to  come  ? 

In  these  five  marks  is  expressed  the  gospel-description  of  a  true 
Christian. 

Having  laid  dow^n  these  marks,  1  must  needs  add  a  few  w^ords  for 
the  explaining  of  some  things  in  them,  lest  you  mistake  the  mean- 
ing, and  so  lose  the  benefit  of  them. 

i.  Observe  that  it  is  your  willingness,  which  is  the  very  point  to 
be  tried.  And  therefore,  1.  Judge  not  by  your  bare  knowledge. 
2.  Judge  not  by  the  stirring  or  passionate  workings  of  your  affec- 
tions.    I  pray  you  forget  not  this  rule  in  an)-  of  j^our  self-examin- 


'  v:l 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  281 

ings.  It  is  the  heart  that  God  requireth.  "  My  son,  give  me 
thy  heart;"  Prov.  xxiii.  26.  If  he  hath  the  will,  he  hath  the 
heart.  He  may  have  much  of  our  knowledge,  and  not  our  heart. 
But  when  we  know  him  so  thoroughly  as  to  will  him  unfeignedly, 
then  he  hath  our  heart.  Affectionate  workings  of  the  soul  to  God 
in  Christ,  are  sweet  things,  and  high  and  noble  duties,  and  such  as  all 
Christians  should  strive  for.  But  they  are  not  the  safest  marks  to 
try  our  states  by.  (1.)  Because  there  may  be  a  solid,  sincere 
intention  and  choice  in  and  of  the  will,  where  there  is  little  stirring 
perceived  of  the  affections.  (2.)  Because  the  will  is  the  master- 
commanding  faculty  of  the  rational  soul ;  and  so,  if  it  be  right,  that 
man  is  upright  and  safe.  (3.)  Because  the  passions  and  affec- 
tions are  so  mutable  and  uncertain.  The  will  can  command  them 
but  imperfectly ;  it  cannot  perfectly  restrain  them  from  vanities  ; 
much  less  can  it  perfectly  raise  them  to  that  height,  as  is  suitable 
to  the  excellency  of  our  heavenly  objects.  But  the  object  itself, 
with  its  sensible  manner  of  apprehension,  moves  them  more  than  all 
the  command  of  the  will.  And  so  we  find  by  experience,  that  a 
godly  man,  when,  with  his  utmost  private  endeavor,  he  cannot  com- 
mand one  stirring  pang  of  divine  loveor  joy  in  his  soul,  yet  upon  the 
hearing  of  some  moving  sermon,  or  the  sudden  receiving  of  some 
extraordinary  mercy,  or  the  reading  of  some  quickening  book,  he 
shall  feel  perhaps  some  stirring  of  that  affection.  So  when  we  can- 
not weep  in  private  one  tear  for  sin,  yet  at  a  stirring  sermon,  or 
when  we  give  vent  to  our  sorrows,  and  ease  our  troubled  hearts  into 
the  bosom  of  some  faithful  friend,  then  we  can  find  tears.  (4.) 
Because  passions  and  affections  depend  so  much  on  the  temperature 
of  the  body.  To  one  they  are  easy,  familiar  and  at  command  ;  to 
another  (as  honest)  they  are  difficult  and  scarce  stirred  at  all. 
With  most  women,  and  persons  of  weaker  tempers,  they  are  easier 
than  with  men.  Some  cannot  weep  at  the  death  of  a  friend, 
though  never  so  dear,  no,  nor  perhaps  feel  very  sensible,  inward  ■ 
grief;  and  yet  perhaps  w^ould  have  redeemed  his  life  at  a  far  dear- 
er rate  (had  h  been  possible)  than  those  that  can  grieve  and  weep 
more  abundantly.  (5.)  Because  worldly  things  have  so  great  an 
advantage  on  our  passions  and  affections.  1 .  They  are  sensible 
and  near  us,  and  our  knowledge  of  them  is  clear.  But  God  is  not 
to  be  seen,  heard  or  felt  by  our  senses ;  he  is  far  from  us,  though 
locally  present  with  us ;  we  are  capable  of  knowing  but  little,  very 
little  of  him.  2.  Earthly  things  are  always  before  our  eyes ;  their 
advantage  is  continual.  3.  Earthly  things,  being  still  the  objects 
of  our  senses,  do  force  our  passions,  whether  we  will  or  not,  though 
they  cannot  force  our  wills.  (6.)  Because  affections  and  passions 
rise  and  fall,  and  neither  are  nor  can  be  in  any  even  and  constant 
frame,  and  therefore  are  unfit  to  be  the  constant  or  certain  evidence 
VOL.  I.  36 


282        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

of  our  state  ;  but  the  will's  resolution  and  choice  may  be  more 
constant.  So  that  I  advise  you  rather  to  try  yourself  by  your 
will,  than  by  your  passionate  stirrings  of  love  or  longing,  of  joy  or 
sorrow. 

Object.  '  But  doth  not  the  Scripture  lay  as  much  on  love  as  on 
any  grace?  And  doth  not  Christ  say,  That  except  we  love  him 
above  all,  we  cannot  be  his  disciples  ? ' 

Ans.  It  is  all  very  true.  But  consider,  love  hath  two  parts  ; 
the  one  in  the  will,  which  is  commonly  called  a  faculty  of  the  soul, 
as  rational  ;  and  this  is  the  same  thing  that  I  call  willing,  accept- 
ing, choosing,  or  consenting.  This  complacency  is  true  love  to 
Christ ;  and  this  is  the  sure  standing  mark.  The  other  is  the  pas- 
sionate part,  commonly  said  to  be  in  the  soul,  as  sensitive  ;  and  this, 
though  most  commonly  called  love,  yet  is  less  certain  and  constant, 
and  so  unfitter  to  try  your  state  by,  though  a  great  duty,  so  far  as 
we  can  reach  it. 

ii.  You  must  understand  and  well  remember,  that  it  is  not  every 
willingness  that  will  prove  your  sincerity ;  for  wicked  men  may 
have  slight  apprehensions  of  spiritual  things,  which  may  produce 
some  slight  desires  and  wishes,  which  are  yet  so  feeble  and  heart- 
less, that  every  lust  and  carnal  desire  overcomes  them  ;  and  it  will 
not  so  much  as  enable  them  to  deny  the  grossest  sin.  But  it  must 
be  the  prevalent  part  of  your  will  that  God  must  have.  I  mean  a 
great  share,  a  deeper  and  larger  room  than  any  thing  in  the  world ; 
that  is,  you  must  have  a  higher  estimation  of  God,  and  everlasting 
happiness,  and  Christ,  and  a  holy  life,  than  of  any  thing  in  the 
world  ;  and  also  your  will  must  be  so  disposed  hereby,  and  inclined 
to  God,  that  if  God  and  glory,  to  be  obtained  through  Christ  by  a 
holy,  self-denying  life,  were  set  before  you  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  pleasure,  profits  and  honors  of  the  world  to  be  enjoyed  in  a  way 
of  sin,  on  the  other  hand,  you  would  resolvedly  take  the  former, 
and  refuse  the  latter.  Indeed,  they  are  thus  set  before  you,  and 
upon  your  choice  dependeth  your  salvation  or  damnation,  though 
that  choice  must  come  from  the  grace  of  God. 

iii.  Yet  must  you  well  remember,  that  this  willingness  and 
choice  is  still  imperfect,  and  therefore  when  I  mention  a  hearty 
willingness,  I  mean  not  a  perfect  willingness.  There  may  be,  and 
is,  in  the  most  gracious  souls  on  earth,  much  indisposedness,  back- 
wardness, and  withdrawing  of  heart,  which  is  too  great  a  measure 
of  unwillingness  to  duty;  especially  to  those  duties  which  the  flesh 
is  most  averse  from,  and  which  require  most  of  God  and  his  Spirit 
to  the  right  performance  of  them. 

Among  all  duties,  I  think  the  soul  is  naturally  most  backward  to 
these  following.  1 .  To  secret  prayer,  because  it  is  spiritual,  and 
requires  great  reverence,  and  hath  nothing  of  external  pomp  or 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  283 

form  to  take  us  up  with,  and  consisteth  not  much  in  the  exercise 
of  common  gifts,  but  in  the  exercise  of  special  grace,  and  the 
breathings  of  the  Spirit,  and  searchings,  pantings,  and  strivings  of  a 
gracious  soul  towards  God.  (I  do  not  speak  of  the  heartless  re- 
peating of  bare  words,  learned  by  rote,  and  either  not  understood, 
or  not  uttered  from  the  feeling  of  the  soul.)  2.  To  serious  med- 
itation also  is  the  soul  very  backward  ;  that  is,  either  to  meditate 
on  God,  and  the  promised  glory,  or  any  spiritual  subject,  to  this 
end  that  the  heart  maybe  thereby  quickened  and  raised,  and  graces 
exercised,  (though  to  meditate  on  the  same  subject,  only  to  know 
or  dispute  on  it,  the  heart  is  nothing  near  so  backward ;)  or  else  to 
meditate  on  the  state  of  our  own  hearts,  by  way  of  self-examina- 
tion, or  self-judging,  or  self-reprehension,  or  self-exciting.  3.  Also 
to  the  duty  of  faithful  dealing  with  each  other's  souls,  in  secret  re- 
proof and  exhortation,  plainly  (though  lovingly)  to  tell  each  other 
of  our  sins  and  danger,  to  this  the  heart  is  usually  very  backward ; 
partly  through  a  sinful  bashfulness,  partly  for  want  of  more  believ- 
ing, lively  apprehensions  of  our  duty,  and  our  brother's  danger, 
and  partly  because  we  are  loath  to  displease  men  and  lose  their 
favor,  it  being  grown  so  common  for  men  to  fall  out  with  those  (if  not 
hate  them)  that  deal  plainly  and  faithfully  with  them.  4.  Also 
to  take  reproof,  as  well  as  to  give  it,  the  heart  is  very  backward. 
Even  godly  men,  through  the  sad  remainders  of  their  sinfulness,  do 
too  commonly  frown,  and  snarl,  and  retort  our  reproofs,  and  study 
presently  how  to  excuse  themselves,  and  put  it  by,  or  how  to  charge 
us  with  something  that  may  stop  our  mouths,  and  make  the  reprov- 
er seem  as  bad  as  themselves.  Though  they  dare  not  tread  our 
reproofs  under  feet,  and  turn  again,  and  all  to  rend  us,  yet  they  oft 
show  the  remnants  of  a  dogged  nature,  though  when  they  review 
their  ways  it  costs  them  sorrow.  We  must  sugar  and  butter  our 
words,  and  make  them  liker  to  stroking  than  striking,  liker  an  ap- 
proving than  a  reproving  them,  liker  a  flattery  than  faithful  dealing, 
and  yet  when  we  have  all  done,  they  go  down  very  hardly,  and 
that  but  half  way,  even  with  many  godly  people  when  they  are 
under  a  temptation.  5.  The  like  may  be  said  of  all  those  duties 
which  do  pinch  upon  our  credit  or  profit,  or  tend  to  disgrace  us,  or 
impoverish  us  in  the  world  ;  as  the  confessing  of  a  disgraceful  fault ; 
the  free  giving  to  the  poor  or  sacred  uses,  according  to  our  estates ; 
the  parting  with  our  own  right  or  gain  for  peace ;  the  patient  suffer- 
ing of  wrong,  and  forgiving  it  heartily,  and  loving  bitter,  abusive 
enemies,  especially  the  running  upon  the  stream  of  men's  displeas- 
ure, and  incurring  the  danger  of  being  utterly  undone  in  our  worldly 
state,  (especially  if  men  be  rich,  who  do  therefore  as  hardly  get  to 
heaven  as  a  camel  through  a  needle's  eye  ;)  and  above  all,  the 
laying  down  of  our  lives  for  Christ.     It   cannot  be  expected  that 


284         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

godly  men  should  perform  all  these  with  perfect  willingness; 
the  flesh  will  play  its  part,  in  pleading  its  own  cause,  and  will 
strive  hard  to  maintain  its  own  interests.  O,  the  shifts,  the  subtile 
arguments,  or  at  least  the  clamorous  and  importunate  contradic- 
tions that  all  these  duties  will  meet  with  in  the  best,  so  far  as  they 
are  renewed,  and  their  graces  weak  !  So  that  you  may  well  hence 
conclude  that  you  are  a  sinner,  but  you  may  not  conclude  that  you 
are  graceless,  because  of  a  backwardness  and  some  unwillingness 
to  duty. 

Yet  your  willingness  must  be  greater  than  your  unwiUingness, 
and  so  Christ  must  have  the  prevailing  part  of  your  will ;  and  from 
that  the  denomination  is  usually  taken.  So  that  Scripture  useth 
to  affirm  God's  people  to  be  willing  even  when  they  fail  in  the 
execution.  So  Paul  (Rom.  vii.  18.)  saith,  "To  will  is  present 
with  me,  when  how  to  do  or  perform  he  found  not ; "  that  is,  not 
to  obey  so  perfectly  as  he  would  do ;  not  to  love  God  so  intensely 
and  fervently ;  not  to  subdue  passions  and  lusts  so  thoroughly  ; 
not  to  watch  our  thoughts,  and  words,  and  ways,  so  narrowly,  and 
order  them  so  exactly,  as  the  bent  of  his  will  did  consent  to.  And 
lest  any  Arminian  should  pretend  (as  they  do)  that  Paul  speaks 
here  in  the  person  of  an  unregenerate  man,  as  under  the  convic- 
tions of  the  law,  and  not  as  a  man  regenerate  ;  it  is  plain  in  the 
text  that  he  speaks  of  himself  in  the  state  which  he  was  then  in, 
and  that  the  state  was  a  regenerate  state.  He  expressly  saith,  it 
is  thus,  and  thus  with  me ;  "  So  then  I  myself  with  my  mind  do 
serve  the  law  of  God,  but  with  my  flesh  do  serve  the  law  of  sin ; " 
ver.  25.  And  to  put  it  out  of  doubt,  the  apostle  speaks  the  like 
of  all  Christians;  Gal.  v.  17.  "For  the  flesh  lusteth  against  the 
Spirit  and  the  Spirit  against  the  flesh,  and  these  are  contrary  the 
one  to  the  other,  so  that  ye  cannot  do  the  things  that  ye  would." 
This  is  the  plain  exposition  of  Rom.  vii.  Here  Scripture  maketh 
the  godly  willing  to  do  more  than  they  do  or  can  do,  but  yet  it  is 
not  a  perfect  willingness,  but  it  is  the  prevailing  inclination  and 
choice  of  the  will,  and  that  gives  the  name. 

iv.  Observe  further,  that  I  add  your  actual  performance  of  duty ; 
because  true  hearty  willingness  will  show  itself  in  actions  and  en- 
deavors. It  is  but  dissembling,  if  I  should  say  I  am  willing  to 
perform  the  strictest,  holiest  duties,  and  yet  do  not  perform  them ; 
to  say  I  am  willing  to  pray,  and  pray  not ;  or  to  give  to  the  poor, 
and  yet  give  not ;  or  to  perform  the  most  self-denying,  costly  duties, 
and  yet  when  it  should  come  to  the  practice,  I  will  not  be  per- 
suaded or  drawn  to  them ;  1  will  not  confess  a  disgraceful  sin,  nor 
further  a  good  cause  to  my  danger,  cost  or  trouble  ;  nor  reprove, 
nor  submit  to  reproof,  nor  turn  from  the  way  of  temptations  or  the 
like,     ^ction  must  discover  true  willingness.     The  son  that  said  to 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  '285 

his  father,  "I  go,  sir,"  but  went  not  to  labor  in  the  vineyard,  was 
not  accepted  or  justified.  If,  therefore,  you  are  in  doubt  whether 
your  wilUngness  be  sincere,  inquire  into  your  practice  and  per- 
formance. God  commandeth  you  to  pray,  to  instruct  your  family, 
to  be  merciful  to  the  poor,  to  forgive  those  that  wrong  you,  he. 
The  flesh  and  the  devil  persuade  you  from  these.  Do  you  perform 
them,  or  do  you  not  ?  Though  you  may  do  it  with  backwardness, 
and  dullness,  and  weakness,  yet  do  you  do  it  ?  And  desire  you 
could  do  it  better,  and  lament  your  misdoing  it  ?  And  endeavor  to 
do  it  better  than  you  have  formerly  done  ?  This  shows  then  that 
the  Spirit  prevaileth,  though  the  flesh  do  contradict  it. 

v.  Yet  here  you  must  carefully  distinguish  of  duties  ;  for  God 
hath  made  some  to  be  secondary  parts  of  the  condition  of  the 
covenant,  and  so  of  flat  necessity  for  the  continuance  of  our  justi- 
fication, and  for  the  attaining  of  glorification.  Such  are  confessing 
Christ  before  men  when  we  are  called  to  it ;  confessing  sin,  pray- 
ing, showing  mercy  to  the  poor,  forgiving  wrongs,  hearing  and 
yielding  to  God's  word,  &ic.,  still  supposing  that  there  be  opportu- 
nity and  necessities  for  the  performance  of  these.  But  some  duties 
there  are  that  God  hath  not  laid  so  great  a  stress  or  necessity  on, 
though  yet  the  willful  resolved  omission,  in  ordinary,  of  any  known 
duty,  is  contrary  to  the  nature  of  tme  obedience. 

Also,  the  case  may  much  differ  with  several  persons,  places  and 
seasons,  concerning  duty  ;  that  may  be  a  duty  to  one  man,  that  is 
not  to  another;  and  at  one  place,  which  is  not  at  another;  and  at 
one  season,  which  is  not  at  another.  And  that  may  be  a  greater 
duty,  and  of  indispensable  necessity  to  one,  which  to  another  is  not 
so  great.  It  may  stand  with  true  grace,  to  omit  that  duty  which 
men  know  not  to  be  a  duty,  or  not  to  be  so  to  them,  (except  where 
the  duty  is  such,  as  is  itself  of  absolute  necessity  to  salvation  ;)  but 
it  cannot  so  stand  with  grace,  in  those  that  know  it,  ordinarily  to 
reject  it. 

vi.  Also  you  must  understand,  that  when  I  say,  that  true  will- 
ingness to  be  ruled  by  Christ,  will  show  itself  in  actual  obedience, 
1  do  not  mean  it  of  every  particular  individual  act  which  is  our 
duty,  as  if  you  should  judge  yourself  graceless  for  every  particailar 
omission  of  a  duty ;  no,  though  you  knew  it  to  be  a  duty,  and 
though  you  considered  it  to  be  a  duty.  For,  1.  There  may  be  a 
true  habituated  inclination  and  willingness  to  obey  Christ  rooted  in 
the  heart,  when  yet,  by  the  force  of  a  temptation,  the  actual  prev- 
alency  of  it  at  that  time,  in  that  act,  may  be  hindered  and  sup- 
pressed. 2.  And  at  the  same  time,  you  do  hold  on  in  a  course 
of  obedience  in  other  duties.  3.  And  when  the  temptation  is 
overcome,  and  grace  hath  been  roused  up  against  the  flesh,  and 
you  soberly  recollect  your  thoughts,  you  will  return  to  obedience 


286         DIUECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

in  that  duty  also.  Yea,  how  many  days,  or  weeks,  or  months,  a 
ti\ie  Christian  may  possibly  neglect  a  known  duty,  I  will  not  dare 
to  determine,  (of  which,  more  anon.)  Yet  such  omissions  as  will 
not  stand  with  a  sincere  resolution  and  willingness  to  obey  Christ 
universally  (I  mean  an  habitual  willingness)  will  not  consist  with 
the  truth  of  grace. 

vii.  I  know  the  fourth  mark,  about  forsaking  all  for  Christ,  may 
seem  somewhat  unseasonable  and  harsh  to  propound  for  the  quiet- 
ing of  a  troubled  conscience.  But  yet,  I  durst  not  omit  it,  seeing 
Christ  hath  not  omitted  it ;  nay,  seeing  he  hath  so  urged  it,  and 
laid  such  a  stress  on  it  in  the  Scripture  as  he  hath  done,  I  dare  not 
daub,  nor  be  unfaithful,  for  fear  of  troubling.  Such  skinning  over 
the  wound  will  but  prepare  for  more  trouble  and  a  further  cure. 
Christ  thought  it  meet  even  to  tell  young  beginners  of  the  worst, 
(though  it  might  possibly  discourage  them,  and  did  turn  some  back,) 
that  they  might  not  come  to  him  upon  mistaken  expectations,  and 
he  requireth  all  that  will  be  Christians,  and  be  saved,  to  count  their 
cost  beforehand,  and  reckon  what  it  will  stand  them  in  to  be  Christ's 
disciples ;  and  if  they  cannot  undergo  his  terms,  (that  is,  to  deny 
themselves,  take  up  their  cross,  forsake  all,  and  follow  him,)  they 
cannot  be  his  disciples.  And  Christ  had  rather  they  knew  it  be- 
forehand, than  to  deceive  themselves,  or  to  turn  back  when  they 
meet  with  what  they  never  thought  of,  and  then  to  imagine  that 
Christ  had  deceived  them,  and  drawn  them  in  and  done  the  wrong. 

viii.  When  I  say  in  the  fourth  mark,  that  you  must  have  a  settled 
resolution,  I  mean  the  same  thing  as  before  I  did  by  hearty  will- 
ingness. But  it  is  meeter  here  to  call  it  resolution,  because  this 
is  the  proper  name  for  that  act  of  the  will,  which  is  a  determina- 
tion of  itself  upon  deliberation,  after  any  wavering,  to  the  doing  or 
submitting  to  any  thing  as  commanded.  I  told  you  it  must  be  the 
prevailing  act  of  the  will  that  must  prove  you  sincere :  every  cold, 
ineffectual  wish  will  not  serve  turn.  Christ  seeks  for  your  heart 
on  one  side,  and  the  world,  with  its  pleasures,  profits  and  honors  on 
the  other  side.  The  soul,  which,  upon  consideration  of  both,  doth 
prefer  Christ  in  his  choice,  and  reject  the  world,  (as  it  is  competitor 
with  him,)  and  this  not  doubtingly  and  with  reservation  for  further 
deliberation  or  trial,  but  presently  passeth  his  consent  for  better  and 
worse,  this  is  said  to  be  a  resolving.  And  I  know  no  one  word 
that  more  fitly  expresseth  the  nature  of  that  grace  which  differ- 
enceth  a  true  Christian  from  all  hypocrites,  and  by  which  a  man 
may  safely  judge  of  his  estate. 

ix.  Yet  1  here  add,  that  it  must  be  a  settled  resolution ;  and  that 
to  intimate,  that  it  must  be  an  habitual  willingness  or  resolution. 
The  prevalency  of  Christ's  interest  in  the  soul  must  be  an  habitual 
prevalency.      If  a  man  that  is  terrified  b}'  a  rousing  sermon,  or  that 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  287 

lieth  In  expectation  of  present  death,  should  actually  resolve  to 
forsake  sin,  or  perform  duty,  without  any  further  change  of  mind,  or 
habit,  or  fixedness  of  this  resolution,  it  would  be  of  no  great  value, 
and  soon  extinguished.  Though  yet  I  believe  that  no  unsanctified 
man  doth  ever  attain  to  that  full  resolution  for  Christ,  which  hath  a 
complacency  in  Christ  accompanying  it,  and  which  may  be  termed 
the  prevailing  part  of  the  will.  Those  that  seem  resolved  to-day  to 
be  for  Christ,  and  to  deny  the  world  and  the  flesh,  and  the  next 
day  are  unresolved  again,  have  cause  to  suspect  that  they  were 
never  truly  resolved.  Though  the  will  of  a  godly  man  may  lie 
under  declinings  in  the  degrees  of  resolution,  yet  Christ  hath 
always  his  habitual  resolutions,  and  usually  his  actual  in  a  preva- 
lent degree. 

x.  I  add  also  the  grounds  (in  the  fourth  mark)  on  which  this 
resolution  must  be  raised.  For  false  grounds  in  the  understanding 
will  not  bear  up  a  true  resolution  in  the  will.  And  therefore  we 
put  the  articles  of  our  creed  before  our  profession  of  consent  and 
obedience.  Sound  doctrine,  and  sound  belief  of  it,  breeds  a  sound 
resolution,  and  makes  a  sound  heart  and  life.  If  a  man  resolve  to 
obey  Christ,  upon  a  conceit  that  Christ  will  never  put  him  upon 
any  suffering,  (else  he  would  not  resolve  it,)  and  that  he  will  give 
him  such  brutish  pleasures,  when  he  is  dead,  as  Mahomet  hath 
promised  to  his  disciples,  this  resolution  were  not  sound,  yet  in 
many  lesser  points  of  doctrine  a  true  Christian  may  be  unsound, 
and  yet  soundly  cleave  to  the  foundation.  He  may  build  hay  and 
stubble  possibly;  but  the  foundation  must  be  held. 

xi.  Observe  well  (lest  you  mistake  me)  that  I  speak  only  of 
the  necessity  of  your  present  resolving  to  forsake  all  for  Christ,  if 
he  call  you  to  it ;  but  I  speak  not  of  your  absolute  promise  or  pre- 
diction, that  eventually  you  shall  not  deny  or  forsake  him.  You 
may  be  uncertain  how  you  shall  be  upheld  in  a  day  of -trial,  and 
yet  you  may  now  be  resolved  or  fully  purposed  in  your  own  mind 
what  to  do.  To  say,  '  I  will  not  consent,  purpose  or  resolve,  un- 
less I  were  certain  to  perform  my  resolutions,  and  not  to  flag  or 
change  again  ; '  this  is  but  to  say,  '  I  will  be  no  Christian,  unless  I 
were  sure  to  persevere.  I  will  not  be  married  to  Christ,  lest  I 
should  be  drawn  to  break  my  covenant  with  him.' 

xii.  Also  observe,  that  when  I  speak  of  your  resolving  to  forsake 
all  for  Christ,  it  is  not  to  cast  away  your  state  or  life,  but  to  submit 
it  to  his  dispose,  and  to  relinquish  it  only  in  case  that  he  command 
you  so. 

xiii.  And  I  do  not  intend  that  you  should  be  able  thus  to  resolve 
of  yourself  without  the  special  grace  of  God  ;  nor  yet  without  it  to 
continue  those  resolutions,  much  less  to  perform  them  by  actual 
HufFerinii. 


288        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

Object.  '  But  I  cannot  be  sure  that  God  will  give  me  grace  to 
persevere,  or  at  least  not  to  deny  him,  as  Peter  did  ;  and  therefore 
I  should  neither  promise  nor  resolve  what  I  cannot  be  certain  to 
perform.' 

Answ.  1.  I  suppose  you  have  read  the  many  scriptures  and 
arguments  which  our  divines  ordinarily  use  to  prove  that  the  true 
believers  shall  not  fall  quite  away.  And  I  know  not  how  the  op- 
posers  can  answer  that  text  which  themselves  use  to  alledge  for 
the  contrary;  Matt.  xiii.  6.  21.  Those  that  believe  for  a  time, 
and  in  the  time  of  persecution  fall  away,  it  is  because  the  seed  had 
not  depth  of  earth,  the  word  never  took  rooting  in  their  hearts. 
Whence  it  seems  that  it  may  be  well  inferred,  that  those  shall  not 
fall  away  in  time  of  temptation,  in  whom  the  word  of  God  hath  taken 
deep  rooting.  And  that  is,  in  them  in  whose  hearts  or  wills  Christ 
hath  a  stronger  interest  than  the  creature,  or  those  that  have  a  well- 
grounded,  unreserved,  habituated  or  settled  resolution  to  be  for 
Christ.  2.  However,  your  present  resolution,  and  your  covenant- 
ing with  Christ,  is  no  more  but  this  ;  to  say,  '  I  do  consent ; '  or 
'  This  I  am  resolved  to  do,  by  the  help  of  God's  grace.'  3.  Else 
no  man  should  be  baptized  or  become  a  Christian,  because  he  is 
uncertain  to  keep  his  covenants ;  for  all  that  are  baptized,  do  cove- 
nant and  vow,  "  to  forsake  the  world,  flesh,  devil,"  and  fight  under 
Christ's  banner  to  their  lives'  end.  Understand  me  therefore,  that 
you  are  not  to  promise  to  do  this  by  your  own  strength,  but  by  the 
strength  of  Christ,  as  knowing  that  he  hath  promised  his  Spirit  and 
grace  for  the  aid  of  every  true  believer. 

xiv.  If  your  resolution  at  present  be  hearty,  you  ought  not  to 
vex  and  disquiet  your  mind  with  doubtful,  tormenting  fears  what 
you  should  do,  if  you  be  put  to  it  to  forsake  all,  and  suffer  death  for 
Christ,  for  he  hath  promised  to  lay  no  more  on  us  than  we  can  bear, 
but  with  the  temptation  will  make  us  a  way  to  come  forth ;  1  Cor. 
X.  13;  either  he  will  not  bring  us  into  trials  beyond  our  strength, 
or  else  he  will  increase  our  strength  according  to  our  trials.  He 
hath  bid  us  pray,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us 
from  evil;"  and  he  hath  promised,  that  " whatsoever  we  ask  in 
the  name  of  Christ  according  to  his  will,  he  will  give  us."  So 
that  if  once  you  can  but  truly  say,  that  it  is  your  full  resolution  to 
forsake  all  for  Christ  if  he  call  you  to  it,  and  that  on  the  fore-men- 
tioned grounds,  you  ought  not  then  to  vex  your  soul  with  fears  of 
the  issue ;  for  that  is  but  to  distrust  God  your  Father  and  your 
strength.  Only  you  must  be  careful  to  do  your  duty  to  the  keep- 
ing up  of  your  present  resolutions,  and  to  wait  obediently  on  God 
for  the  help  of  his  Spirit,  and  to  beg  it  earnestly  at  his  hands. 

XV.  Much  less  is  it  lawful  for  men  to  feign  and  suppose  such 
calamities  to  themselves,  as  God  doth  never  tiy  men  by,  and  then 


SPlRITUAl,    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  289 

to  ask  themselves,  '  Can  1  hear  these  for  Christ? '  And  so  to  try 
themselves  on  false  and  dangerous  grounds.  Some  use  to  be 
troubled,  lest  if  they  were  put  to  long  and  exquisite  torments  for 
Christ,  they  should  renounce  him.  One  saith,  '  I  cannot  endure  the 
torments  of  hell  for  Christ;'  another  saith,  'Could  I  endure  to  be 
roasted,  or  torn  in  pieces  so  many  weeks  or  days  together  ? '  Or 
'Could  I  endure  to  die  so  many  times  over?'  These  are  foolish, 
sinful  questions,  which  Christ  never  desired  you  to  put  to 
yourselves.  He  never  tries  men's  faith  on  this  manner.  Tor- 
mentors cannot  go  beyond  his  will.  Nay,  it  is  but  very  few  he 
tries  by  death,  and  fewer  by  an  extreme  tormenting  death.  All 
tills  therefore  proceeds  from  error. 

xvi.  Observe  from  the  fifth  mark,  that  the  present  prevalencyof 
your  resolutions  now  against  those  temptations  which  you  encoun- 
ter with,  may  well  encourage  you  to  expect  that  they  should  pre- 
vail hereafter,  if  God  bring  you  into  greater  trials.  Can  you  now 
follow  Christ  in  a  holy  life,  though  your  flesh  repine,  and  would 
have  its  liberties  and  pleasures ;  and  though  the  world  deride  or 
threaten  you,  or  great  ones  turn  against  you  and  threaten  your  un- 
doing ?  Can  you  part  with  your  money  to  the  poor,  or  to  the  pro- 
moting of  any  work  of  Christ,  according  to  the  measure  of  estate 
that  God  hath  allotted  you,  notwithstanding  all  temptations  to  the 
contrary  ?  Some  trials  you  have  now  ;  if  you  can  go  well  through 
these,  you  have  no  cause  to  disquiet  your  mind  with  fears  of  falling 
in  greater  trials.  But  he  that  cannot  now  deny  his  greedy  appe- 
tite in  meats  and  drink,  so  far  as  to  forbear  excess  ;  nor  can  deny 
his  credit  with  men,  nor  bear  the  scorns  or  frowns  of  the  world,  but 
be  on  the  stronger  side,  and  decline  his  duty  to  avoid  danger,  what- 
ever become  of  conscience  or  God's  favor,  this  man  is  not  like 
to  forsake  and  lay  down  his  life  for  Christ  and  his  cause. 

Object.  '  But  though  I  break  through  lesser  trials,  I  am  not  sure 
to  overcome  in  greater,  for  the  same  measure  of  grace  will  not  ena- 
ble a  man  to  forsake  all,  which  will  enable  him  to  forsake  a  little. 
Many  have  gone  through  smaller  trials,  and  after  forsaken  Christ  in 
greater.  And  Christ  makes  it  the  property  of  temporaries  that  are 
not  rooted  in  the  faith,  that  they  fall  when  tribulation  and  persecu- 
tion for  the  gospel  ariseth,  and  therefore  it  seems  they  may  stand 
till  then  ;  and  if  trial  never  come,  they  may  never  fall,  and  yet  be 
unsound  in  the  mean  time.' 

Answ.  1.  If  your  trial  now  be  considerable,  the  truth  of  grace 
may  be  manifested  in  it,  though  it  be  none  of  the  greatest,  and 
though  in  striving  against  sin  you  have  not  yet  resisted  unto  blood. 
2.  If  you  carefully  observe  your  own  heart,  you  may  discern 
whether  the  Spirit  and  your  resolutions  be  prevalent,  by.  their  daily 
subduing  and  mortifying  the  flesh  and  its  lusts.  Nay,  let  me  tell 
VOL.  I.  37 


'290  DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

you,  the  victory  of  God's  Spirit  over  the  flattering,  enticing  world 
in  prosperity,  is  as  great  and  glorious,  if  not  more,  than  that  over 
the  frowning,  persecuting  world  in  adversity.  And  therefore  find 
the  one,  and  you  need  not  fear  the  other.  Though  I  confess  that 
hypocrites  do  not  fall  so  visibly  and  shamefully  always  in  prosperi- 
ty as  in  adversity ;  for  they  have  more  pretenses,  advantages,  and 
carnal  shifts,  to  hide  the  shame  of  their  falls.  And  for  that  in  the 
parable  in  Matt.  xiii.  I  pray  you  mark  one  thing.  Christ  seems 
to  speak  of  every  several  sort  of  hearers  by  a  gradation,  speaking 
last  of  those  that  go  farthest.  The  first  sort  are  the  common,  igno- 
rant, negligent  hearers,  in  whom  the  word  takes  no  root  at  all. 
The  second  sort  are  those  that  give  it  a  slight  and  shallow  rooting, 
but  no  deep  rooting  at  all ;  these  are  they  that  fall  away  in  tribula- 
tion. By  falling  away,  is  meant  the  plain  deserting  Christ  or  the 
substance  of  his  cause.  These  men,  till  this  falling  away,  though 
they  professed  Christ,  and  heard  the  word  with  joy,  yet  no  doubt 
did  not  crucify  the  flesh  and  the  world,  whereby  they  might  have 
discovered  their  unsoundness  if  they  would,  before  tribulation  came. 
First,  by  discerning  that  the  word  was  not  deep  rooted :  1 .  In  their 
judgment  and  estimation.  2.  Or  in  their  wills  and  settled  resolu- 
tion. Secondly  ;  and  by  discerning  the  unmortified  lusts  of  their 
hearts  in  the  mean  time.  But  it  seems  the  third  sort  of  hearers, 
likened  to  the  thorny  ground,  went  farther  than  these  ;  for  here  it 
is  only  said  by  Luke,  viii.  14,  "  That  they  bring  no  fruit  to  perfec- 
tion." However,  whether  these  went  farther  than  the  other,  or 
not,  it  is  certain  that  these  also  had  their  trial,  and  fell  in  the  trial. 
The  deceitfulness  of  riches  overturned  these,  as  the  heat  of  perse- 
cution overturned  the  other.  So  that  it  is  evident  that  prosperity 
puts  faith  to  the  trial,  as  well  as  adversity.  But  mark  the  differ- 
ent manner  of  their  falls  and  overthrows.  They  that  are  over- 
thrown by  adversity,  are  said  to  fall  away,  that  is,  to  forsake  Christ 
openly  ;  but  they  that  fall  by  prosperity,  are  not  said  to  fall  away  ; 
but  only  that  the  "  deceitfulness  of  riches,  and  cares  of  the  world, 
choke  the  word,  so  that  it  becomes  unfixiitful ;"  that  is,  brings  no 
fruit  to  perfection.  For  usually  these  do  not  openly  forsake  Christ, 
but  continue  oft  an  unfruitful  and  hypocritical  profession  ;  insomuch 
that  at  that  very  time,  when  the  word  is  choked  and  fruitless,  yet 
the  blade  of  profession  may  be  as  green  as  ever,  and  they  may  be 
so  much  in  some  duties,  and  have  such  golden  words,  and  witty 
shifts  to  plead  for  every  covetous  practice,  and  put  so  fair  a  gloss 
on  all  their  actions,  that  they  may  keep  up  the  credit  of  being  very 
eminent  Christians.  So  that  if  your  grace  can  carry  you  well 
through  prosperity,  you  may  be  confident  of  the  truth  of  it.  3. 
And  then  if  it  be  thus  proved  true  and  saving,  you  have  cause  to 
be  confident  that  it  will  hold  out  in  adversity  also,  and  cause  you  to 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMfORT.  291 

overcome  the  shake  of  tribulation.  I  think  most  men  are  better  in 
adversity  than  in  prosperity,  though  I  confess  no  adversity  is  so 
shaking,  as  that  which  leaves  it  in  a  man's  choice  to  come  out  of  it 
by  sinning.  As  for  a  man  in  health  to  be  persecuted,  and  the  per- 
secutor to  say,  '  If  thou  wilt  turn  to  my  side  and  way,  I  will  give 
thee  thy  life  and  preferment  with  it ; '  but  sickness  or  other  suffer- 
ings imposed  only  by  God,  and  which  only  God  can  take  off,  are 
nothing  so  shaking.  For  as  the  former  draws  us  to  please  men, 
that  they  may  deliver  us,  so  this  draws  even  the  wicked  to  think  of 
pleasing  God,  that  he  may  deliver  them. 

xvii.  Observe  that  when  I  ask  '  whether  this  resolution  do  already 
prevail,'  I  do  not  mean  any  perfect  prevailing ;  nay,  sin  may  pre- 
vail to  draw  you  to  a  particular  act,  (and  how  many  I  will  not  un- 
<lertake  to  tell  you,)  and  yet  still  grace  and  the  Spirit  do  conquer 
in  the  main.  For  you  will  say,  that  general  and  army  get  the  vic- 
tory who  vanquish  the  other,  and  win  the  field,  though  yet  perhaps 
a  troop  or  regiment  may  be  routed,  and  many  slain. 

xviii.  When  I  speak  of  your  '  overcoming  all  gross  sins,'  as  I  mean 
in  ordinary,  not  doubting  but  it  is  too  possible  for  a  believer  to  com- 
mit a  gross  sin ;  so  I  confess  that  it  is  hard  to  tell  just  which  sins 
are  to  be  called  gross,  and  which  infirmities  only;  or  (as  some 
speak)  which  are  mortal  and  which  not.  And  therefore  this 
mark  hath  some  difficulties,  as  to  the  right  trying  of  it,  (of  which 
more  anon.) 

xix.  Yet  I  desire  that  you  join  them  all  together  in  trial,  seeing 
it  is  in  the  whole  that  the  true  and  full  description  of  a  Christian 
is  contained.  The  same  description  of  a  true  Christian  (pre-sup- 
posing  his  right  belief)  I  have  drawn  up  in  our  public  church  pro- 
fession, which  in  this  county  the  ministers  have  agreed  on  ;  in  the 
profession  of  consent  in  these  words  ;  '  I  do  heartily  take  this  one 
God  for  my  only  God  and  chief  good  ;  and  this  Jesus  Christ  for  my 
only  Lord,  Redeemer  and  Savior;  and  this  Holy  Ghost  for  my 
Sanctifier;  and  the  doctrine  by  him  revealed  and  sealed  by  his 
miracl.es,  and  now  contained  in  the  Holy  Scriptures,  do  I  take  for 
the  law  of  God,  and  the  rule  of  my  faith  and  Hfe  ;  and  repenting 
unfeignedly  of  my  sins,  I  do  resolve  through  the  grace  of  God  sin- 
cerely to  obey  him,  both  in  holmess  to  God,  and  righteousness  to 
man,  and  in  special  love  to  the  saints,  and  communion  with  them, 
against  all  the  temptations  of  the  devil,  the  world,  and  my  own 
flesh,  and  this  to  death.'  He  that  sincerely  can  speak  these  words, 
is  a  sincere  Christian. 

XX.  Lastly,  that  you  may  see  that  those  five  which  I  laid  you 
down  are  all  true  marks,  do  but  peruse  these  texts  of  Scripture  fol- 
lowing. For  the  first,  Psalm  xvi.  5.  2.  Ixxiii.  '24 — 28.  iv.  6,  7. 
I  1—3.    Josh.  xxiv.  16—18.  21—24.    Matt.  vi.  19—21.    Rom. 


292  DIRECTIONS    FOR    (iETTlNG    AND    KEEPINfi 

vii.  24.  viii.  17,  18.  23.  Heb.  xi.  10.  15,  16.  25—27.  Psalm 
xvi.  5 — 8.  For  the  second,  see  John  i.  10 — 12.  iii.  16.  Mark 
xvi.  16.  Acts  xvi.  31.  John  xiv.  21.  xvi.  27.  Rom.  xiv.  9. 
Luke  xvi.  27.  James  i.  12.  Matt.  xxii.  37.  1  Cor.  xvi.  22. 
Matt.  X.  37.  Rev.  xxii.  14.  Heb.  v.  9.  For  the  third,  most  of 
the  same  will  serve,  and  Heb.  xii.  14.  Matt.  vii.  24.  Psalm  i. 
2,  3.  Matt.  V.  20.  Acts  x.  35.  Rom.  vii.  22.  For  the  two 
last  besides  the  former,  see  Heb.  xi.  6.  Rom.  viii.  1 — 14.  Gal. 
V.  17.  24.  vi.  8.  1  Tim.  vi.  9.  Luke  viii.  13.  1  John  ii.  15. 
V.  4,  5.  James  i.  27.  iv.  4.  Gal.  vi.  14.  i.  4.  Rom.  xii.  2. 
Titus  ii.  14.  Matt.  x.  37.  Rom.  ii.  5—7.  Rev.  xiv.  13.  Phil. 
ii.  14.  Col.  iii.  23,  24.  1  Cor.  iii.  8.  14.  John  xii.  16.  1 
John  iii.  22, 23.  Gen.  xxii.  16.  Matt.  x.  22.  xxiv.  13.  Heb. 
iii.  6.  14.  vi.  11.  Rev.  ii.  26.  10.  xii.  11.  Matt.  xvi.  25.  x. 
39.  Mark  xvii.  33.  Rom.  viii.  9.  13.  Luke  xiii.  3.  5.  Rom. 
vi.  4—6.  12.  14.  16,  17.  22. 

And  thus  I  have  given  you  such  marks  as  you  may  safely  try 
yourself  by,  and  cleared  the  meaning  of  them  to  you.  Now,  let  me 
advise  you  to  this  use  of  them.  1.  Li  your  serious  self-examina- 
tion try  only  by  these,  and  not  by  any  uncertain  marks.  I  know 
there  be  promises  of  life  made  to  some  particular  duties  and  single 
qualifications  in  Scripture,  as  to  humility,  meekness,  alms-deeds, 
love  to  the  godly,  etc. ;  but  it  is  still  both  on  supposition  that  they 
be  not  single  in  the  person,  but  are  accompanied  with,  and  flow 
from  that  faith  and  love  to  God  before  mentioned  ;  and  also  that 
they  are  in  a  prevailing  degree. 

2.  Whenever  any  fresh  doubtings  arise  in  you  upon  the  stirrings 
of  corruption,  or  debility  of  graces,  still  have  recourse  to  these  for- 
mer marks ;  and  while  you  find  these,  let  not  any  thing  cause  you 
to  pass  wrong  judgments  on  yourself.  Lay  these  now  to  your  own 
heart,  and  tell  me,  '  Are  you  not  unfeignedly  willing  to  have  Christ 
on  the  terms  that  he  is  offered  ?  Are  you  not  willing  to  be  more 
holy  ?  And  beg  of  him  to  make  you  so  ?  Would  you  not  be  glad 
if  your  soul  were  more  perfectly  sanctified,  and  rid  of  that  body  of 
sin,  though  it  were  to  the  smart  and  displeasing  of  your  flesh  ?  Are 
you  not  willing  to  wait  on  God,  in  the  use  of  his  ordinances,  in  that 
poor,  weak  measure  as  you  are  able  to  perform  them  ?  Durst  you, 
or  would  you  quit  your  part  in  God,  heaven,  Christ,  and  forsake 
the  way  of  holiness,  and  do  as  the  profane  world  doth,  though  it 
were  to  please  your  flesh,  or  save  your  state  or  life  ?  Do  you  not 
daily  strive  against  the  flesh  and  keep  it  under,  and  deny  its  desires  ? 
Do  you  not  deny  the  world  when  it  would  hinder  you  from  works 
of  mercy  or  public  good,  according  to  your  ability  ?  Is  it  not  the 
grief  of  your  soul  when  you  fall,  and  your  greatest  trouble  that  you 
cannot  walk  more  obediently,  innocently  and  fruitfully  ?     And  do 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  293 

you  not,  after  sinning,  resolve  to  be  more  watchful  for  the  time  to 
come  ?  Are  you  not  resolved  to  stick  to  Christ  and  his  holy  laws 
and  ways,  whatever  changes  or  dangers  come,  and  rather  to  forsake 
friends  and  all  that  you  have,  than  to  forsake  him  ?  Yet  in  a  godly 
jealousy  and  distrust  of  your  own  heart,  do  renounce  your  own 
strength,  and  resolve  to  do  this  only  in  the  strength  of  Christ,  and 
therefore  daily  beg  it  of  him?  Is  it  not  your  daily  care  and  business 
to  please  God  and  do  his  will,  and  avoid  sinning  in  your  weak 
measure  ? '  I  hope  that  all  this  is  so,  and  your  own  case  ;  which 
if  it  be,  you  have  infallible  evidences,  and  want  but  the  sight  and 
comfort  of  them ;  you  have  the  true  grounds  for  assurance,  though 
you  want  assurance  itself;  your  chief  danger  is  over,  though  your 
trouble  remain.  Your  soul  is  at  the  present  in  a  safe  condition,, 
though  not  in  the  sense  of  it.  You  are  in  the  state  of  salvation, 
though  not  of  consolation.  It  must  be  your  next  work,  therefore,  to 
study  God's  mercies,  and  take  notice  what  he  hath  done  for  your  souL 
Let  not  so  blessed  a  guest  as  the  Holy  Ghost  dwell  in  you  unobserv- 
ed. Shall  he  do  such  wonders  in  you,  and  for  you,  and  you  not  know 
it,  or  acknowledge  it?  Shall  he  new-beget  you,  and  new-make 
you,  and  produce  a  spiritual  and  heavenly  nature  in  you,  who  of 
yourself  were  so  carnal  and  earthly,  and  will  you  not  observe  i? 
Had  you  any  of  these  holy  desires,  endeavors,  or  resolutions  of 
yourself  by  nature  ?     Or  have  the  ungodly  about  you  any  of  them  ? 

0  that  you  knew  what  a  work  of  wonderful  mercy,  wisdom,  and 
power,  the  Spirit  performeth  in  the  renewing  of  a  soul ;  then  sure 
you  would  more  observe  and  admire  his  love  to  you  herein  ! 

Direct.  XII.  The  next  rule  for  your  direction  for  the  right 
settling  of  your  peace,  is  this.  'You  must  know,  that  assurance 
of  justification,  adoption,  and  right  of  salvation,  cannot  be  gathered 
from  the  smallest  degree  of  saving  grace.' 

Here  I  must  say  something  for  explaining  my  meaning  to  you  ; 
and  then  give  you  my  reasons  of  this  assertion. 

1.  Understand  that  I  speak  of  God's  ordinary  working  by  means,, 
not  denying  but  God  may,  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  or  an  angel,  or 
other  supernatural  revelation,  bestow  assurance  on  whom  he  pleas- 
eth.  But  I  hope  all  wise  Christians  will  take  heed  of  expecting 
this,  or  of  trusting  too  much  to  seeming  revelations,  unless  they 
could  prove  that  God  useth  to  confer  assurance  in  this  way ;  which 

1  think  they  cannot. 

•i.  By  the  smallest  degree  of  grace,  I  mean,  of  faith,  love,  obe- 
dience, and  those  saving  graces,  whose  acts  are  the  condition  of  our 
salvation,  and  which  in  the  fore-expressed  marks  I  laid  down  to 
you.  Do  not,  therefore,  so  mistake  me,  as  to  think  that  I  speak  of 
a  small  measure  of  those  common  gifts  which  are  separable  from 
true  sanctification ;   such  as  are  extensive  knowledge,  memory, 


394        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

ability  of  utterance  in  preaching,  repeating,  exhorting  or  praying ; 
an  ornate,  plausible,  winning  deportment  before  men,  such  as  is 
commonly  called  good  breeding  or  manners ;  an  affected,  humble, 
complimental  familiarity  and  condescension,  to  creep  into  men's 
estimation  and  affections,  and  steal  their  hearts,  he.  Many  a 
one  that  is  strong  in  saving  grace,  is  weak  in  all  these,  and  other 
the  like. 

Now  for  my  reasons. 

1 .  I  conceive  that  it  is  not  possible  for  any  minister  punctually 
to  set  down  a  discernible  difference  between  the  least  measure  of 
true  saving  grace,  and  the  highest  degree  of  common  grace  ;  and 
to  say,  just  here  it  is  that  they  part,  or  by  this  you  may  discern 
them.  I  do  but  say,  I  think  so,  because  other  men  may  know  far 
more  than  I  do  ;  but  I  will  say  it  is  as  certain,  that  I  am  not  able 
to  do  it,  for  ray  own  part.  This  much  I  can  tell,  that  the  least 
degree  of  grace  that  is  saving,  doth  determine  the  soul  for  God  and 
Christ,  against  the  world  and  flesh,  that  stand  as  competitors ;  and 
so  where  Christ's  interest  prevaileth  in  the  least  measure,  there  is 
the  least  measure  of -saving  grace.  As  when  you  are  weighing  two 
things  in  the  balance,  and  at  last  make  it  so  near  even  weight,  that 
one  end  is  turned  and  no  more :  so  when  you  are  considering 
whether  to  be  for  Christ,  or  for  the  flesh  and  the  world,  and  your 
will  is  but  even  a  very  little  determined  to  Christ,  and  preferreth 
him ;  this  is  the  least  measure  of  saving  grace.  But  then  how  a 
poor  soul  should  discern  this  prevalent  choice  and  determination  of 
itself,  is  all  the  question.  For  there  is  nothing  more  easy  and 
common  than  for  men  to  think  verily,  that  they  prefer  Christ  above 
the  creature,  as  long  as  no  temptation  doth  assault  them,  nor  sen- 
sual objects  stand  up  in  any  considerable  strength  to  entice  them. 
Nay,  wicked  men  do  truly,  ofttimes,  purpose  to  obey  Christ  before 
the  flesh,  and  to  take  him  for  their  Lord,  merely  in  the  general, 
when  they  do  not  know  or  consider  the  quality  of  his  laws ;  that 
they  are  so  strict  and  spiritual,  and  contrary  to  the  flesh,  and  haz- 
ardous to  their  worldly  hopes  and  seeming  happiness.  But  when 
it  comes  to  particulars,  and  God  saith,  '  Now,  deny  thyself,  and  thy 
friend,  and  thy  goods,  and  thy  life  for  my  sake ; '  alas,  it  was  never 
his  resolution  to  do  it ;  nor  will  he  be  persuaded  to  it.  But  he 
that  said  to  God,  who  sends  him  to  labor  in  his  vineyard,  "  I  go, 
sir,"  when  he  comes  to  find  the  unpleasingness  of  the  work,  he 
goes  not,  nor  ever  sets  a  hand  to  it.  So  that  it  is  evident  that  it  is 
no  true,  saving  resolution  or  willingness,  which  prevaileth  not  for 
actual  obedience.  Now,  here  comes  in  the  unresolvable  doubt. 
What  is  the  least  measure  of  obedience,  that  will  prove  a  man  truly 
willing  and  resolved,  or  to  have  truly  accepted  of  Christ  for  his 
Lord  ?     This  obedience  lieth  in  performing  what  is  commanded, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  295 

and  avoiding  what  is  forbidden.  Now,  it  is  too  certain  that  e very- 
true  believer  is  guilty  of  a  frequent  neglect  of  duty,  yea,  of  known 
duty.  We  know  we  should  love  God  more  abundantly,  and  de- 
light in  him,  and  meditate  more  on  him,  and  pray  more  oft  and 
earnestly  than  we  do,  and  instruct  our  families  more  diligently,  and 
speak  against  sin  more  boldly,  and  admonish  our  neighbors  more 
faithfully,  with  many  the  like.  "  The  good  that  we  would  do,  we 
do  not;"  Rom.  vii.  19.  Nay,  the  flesh  so  striveth  against  the 
Spirit,  that  "we  cannot  do  the  good  we  would;"  Gal.  v.  17. 
Nay,  many  a  true  Christian,  in  time  of  temptation,  hath  been  drawn 
to  omit  secret  prayer,  or  family  duties,  almost  wholly  for  a  certain 
space  of  time  ;  yea,  and  perhaps  to  be  so  corrupted  in  his  judg- 
ment for  a  time,  as  to  think  he  doth  well  in  it,  as  also  in  forbearing 
praising  God  by  psalms,  receiving  the  sacraments,  and  communicat- 
ing with  the  church,  hearing  the  word  publicly,  etc.  (for  what  duty 
almost  is  not  denied  of  late  ?)  and  perhaps  may  not  only  omit  re- 
lieving the  poor  for  a  time,  but  excuse  it.  Now,  what  man  can 
punctually  determine  just  how  often  a  true  Christian  may  be  guilty 
of  any  such  omission  ?  and  just  how  long  he  may  continue  it  ?  and 
what  the  duties  be  which  he  may  possibly  so  omit,  and  what  not  ? 

So  also  in  sins  of  commission.  Alas,  what  sins  did  Noah,  Lot, 
David,  Solomon,  Asa,  Peter,  etc.  commit ! 

If  we  should  say  as  the  Papists  and  Arminians,  that  these,  being 
mortal  sins,  do  for  the  time,  till  repentance  restore  himj  cast  a  true 
Christian  out  of  God's  favor  into  a  state  of  damnation ;  then  what 
man  breathing  is  able  to  enumerate  those  mortal  sins,  and  tell  us 
which  be  so  damning,  and  which  not?  Nay,  if  he  could  say, 
drunkenness  is  one,  and  gluttony  another,  who  can  set  the  punc- 
tual stint,  and  say,  '  Just  so  many  bits  a  man  must  eat  before  he 
be  a  glutton ;  or  just  so  much  he  must  drink  before  he  be  a  drunk- 
ard ;  or  by  such  a  sign  the  turning  point  may  be  certainly  known  ? 
We  may  have  signs  by  which  we  niay  be  tried  at  the  bar  of 
man  ;  but  these  are  none  of  them  taken  from  that  smallest  degree,, 
which  specifieth  and  denominates  the  sin  before  God.  If  we  avoid 
the  foresaid  opinion  that  one  such  sin  doth  bring  us  into  the  state 
of  damnation,  yet  is  the  difficulty  never  the  less ;  for  it  is  certain, 
that  ^'  he  that  commits  sin  is  of  the  devil ; "  1  John  iii.  8.  and 
there  are  spots  which  are  not  the  spots  of  God's  children ;  and  all 
true  faith  will  mortify  the  world  to  us,  and  us  to  it;  Gal.  vi.  14. 
and  "  he  that  is  in  Christ  hath  crucified  the  flesh,  with  the  affections 
and  lusts  thereof"  (chap.  v.  24.);  and  that  "if  we  live  after  the 
flesh  we  shall  die;"  Rom.  viii.  13.  And  "his  servants  we  are 
to  whom  we  obey,  whether  of  sin  unto  death,  or  of  obedience  unto 
righteousness;"  chap.  vi.  16.  And  "if  we  delight  in  iniquity, 
or  regard  it,  God  will  not  hear  our  prayers; "  Psal.  Ixvi.  18.    And 


•■'#" 


296        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

that  "  he  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ  must  depart  from  in- 
iquity ;"  1  Tim.  ii.  19.  And  that  "God  will  judge  all  men  ac- 
cording to  their  works,"  and  bid  the  workers  of  iniquity  depart 
from  him ;  Matt.  vii.  23.  Now,  can  any  man  on  earth  tell  us  just 
how  great,  or  how  often  sinning  will  stand  with  true  grace,  and 
how  much  will  not  ?  Who  can  find  those  punctual  bounds  in  the 
word  of  God  ?  I  conclude,  therefore,  that  no  minister,  or,  at  least, 
none  who  is  no  wiser  than  I  am,  can  give  a  true  discernible  differ- 
ence between  the  worst  of  saints,  and  the  best  of  the  unsanctified, 
or  the  weakest  degree  of  true  grace,  and  the  highest  of  common 
■  grace ;  and  so  to  help  such  weak  Christians  to  true  assurance  of 
their  salvation. 

2.  But,  as  this  is  impossible  lo  be  declared  by  the  teachers,  so 
much  more  is  it  impossible  to  be  discerned  by  the  persons  them- 
selves, yea,  though  it  could  possibly  be  declared  to  them ;  and  that 
for  these  reasons. 

1.  From  the  nature  of  the  thing.  Small  things  are  hardly  dis- 
cerned. A  little  is  next  to  none.  2.  From  the  great  darkness  of 
man's  understanding,  and  his  unacquaintedness  with  himself,  (both 
the  nature,  faculties,  and  motions  of  his  soul,  naturally  considered, 
and  the  moral  state,  dispositions,  and  motions  of  it;)  and  is  it  likely 
that  so  blind  an  eye  can  discern  the  smallest  thing,  and  that  in  so 
strange  and  dark  a  place  ?  Every  purblind  man  cannot  see  an 
atom,  or  a  pin,  especially  in  the  dark.  3.  The  heart  is  deceitful 
above  all  things,  as  well  as  dark ;  full  of  seemings,  counterfeits, 
and  false  pretenses.  And  a  child  in  grace  is  not  able  to  discover 
its  jugglings,  and  understand  a  book,  where  almost  every  word  is 
equivocal  or  mysterious.  4.  The  heart  is  most  confused,  as  well 
as  dark  and  deceitful ;  it  is  like  a  house,  or  shop  of  tools,  where 
all  things  are  thrown  together  on  a  heap,  and  nothing  keeps  its 
own  place.  There  are  such  multiplicity  of  cogitations,  fancies,  and 
passions,  and  such  irregular  thronging  in  of  them,  and  such  a  confus- 
ed reception,  and  operation  of  objects  and  conceptions,  that  it  is  a 
wonderful  difficult  thing  for  the  best  Christian  to  discern  clearly 
the  bent  and  actions,  and  so  the  state  of  his  own  soul.  For  in 
such  a  crowd  of  cogitations  and  passions,  we  are  like  men  in  a  fair, 
or  crowd  of  people,  where  a  confused  noise  may  be  heard,  but  you 
cannot  well  perceive  what  any  of  them  say,  except  either  some 
one  near  you  that  speaks  much  louder  than  all  the  rest,  or  else 
except  you  single  out  some  one  from  the  rest,  and  go  close  to  him 
to  confer  with  him  of  purpose.  Our  intellect  and  passions  are  like 
the  lakes  of  water  in  the  common  roads,  where  the  frequent  pas- 
sage of  horses  doth  so  muddy  it,  that  you  can  see  nothing  in  it, 
especially  that  is  near  the  bottom  ;  when  in  pure,  untroubled  waters 
you  may  see  a  small  thing.     In  such  a  confusion  and  tumult  as  is 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFOKT.  297 

usually  ill  men's  souls,  for  a  poor,  weak  Christian  to  seek  for  the 
discovery  of  his  sincerity,  is  according  to  the  proverb,  to  seek 
for  a  needle  in  a  bottle  of  hay.  5.  Besides  all  this,  the  corrupt 
heart  of  man  is  so  exceedingly  backward  to  the  work  of  self-exam- 
ination, and  the  use  of  other  means,  by  W'hich  the  soul  should  be 
familiarly  acquainted  with  itself,  that  in  a  case  of  such  difficulty  it 
will  hardly  ^er  overcome  them,  if  it  were  a  thing  that  might  be 
done.  In  the  best,  a  great  deal  of  resolvedness,  diligence,  and  un- 
wearied constancy  in  searching  into  the  state  of  the  soul,  is  neces- 
sary to  the  attainment  of  a  settled  assurance  and  peace.  How 
much  more  in  them  that  have  so  small,  and  almost  undiscernible 
a  measure  of  grace  to  discover.  6.  Yet  further,  the  conceptions, 
apprehensions,  and  consequently  the  sensible  motions  of  the  will, 
and  especially  the  passions,  are  all  naturally  exceeding  mutable ; 
and  while  the  mobile,  agile  spirits  are  any  way  the  instruments,  it 
will  be  so ;  especially  where  the  impression  which  is  made  in  the 
understanding  is  so  small  and  weak.  Naturally,  man's  mind  and. 
will  is  exceeding  mutable,  and  turned  into  a  hundred  shapes  in  a 
few  days,  according  as  objects  are  presented  to  us,  and  the  temper- 
ature of  the  body  disposeth,  helps  or  hinders  the  mind.  Let  us 
hear  one  man  reason  the  case,  and  we  think  he  makes  all  as  clear 
as  the  light:  let  us  hear  another  solve  all  his  arguments,  and  dis- 
pute for  the  contrary,  and  then  we  see  that  our  apprehensions  were 
abused.  Let  us  hear  him  reply  and  refute  all  again,  and  confirm 
his  cause,  and  then  we  think  him  in  the  right  again.  Nothing 
more  changeable  than  the  conceivings  and  mind  of  man,  till  he  be 
thoroughly  resolved  and  habituated.  Now,  in  this  case,  how  shall 
those  who  have  but  little  grace,  be  able  to  discern  it  ?  It  will  not 
keep  the  mind  from  fluctuating.  If  they  seem  resolved  for  obedi- 
ence to  Christ  to-day,  to-morrow  they  are  so  shaken  by  some  en- 
ticing object,  and  force  of  the  same  temptation,  that  their  resolu- 
tion is  undiscernible  ;  nay,  actually,  they  prefer  sin  at  that  time 
before  obedience.  It  is  impossible,  then,  but  the  soul  should  stag- 
ger and  be  at  a  loss;  for  it  will  judge  of  itself  as  it  finds  itself,  and 
it  cannot  discern  the  habitual  prevalency  of  Christ's  interest,  when 
they  feel  the  actual  prevalency  of  the  flesh's  interest.  For  the  act 
is  the  only  discoverer  of  the  habit.  And  if  Peter  himself  should 
have  fallen  to  the  examination  of  his  heart,  whether  he  preferred 
Christ  before  his  life,  at  the  same  time  when  he  was  denying  and 
forswearing  Christ  to  save  his  life,  do  you  think  he  could  have 
discerned  it?  And  yet  even  then  Christ's  interest  was  greatest  in 
him  habituafly.  If  David  should  have  gone  to  search,  whether  he 
preferred  obedience  to  God,  before  his  fleshly  pleasure,  when  he 
was  committing  adultery  ;  or  before  his  credit,  when  he  was  plot- 
ting the  death  of  LViah,  what  discovery  do  you  think  he  would  have 
VOL.  1.  38 


298        DIRECTIONS  FOK  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

made  ?  7.  Add  to  all  these,  that,  as  these  several  distempers,  were 
they  but  in  the  same  measure  in  a  weak  Christian,  as  they  are  in 
the  best,  or  in  most,  would  yet  make  the  smallest  measure  of 
grace  undiscernible,  (if  we  might  suppose  the  smallest  grace  to  be 
consistent  with  such  a  frame ;)  so  it  is  certain,  that  whoever  he  be 
that  hath  the  least  measure  of  grace  to  discover  in  himself,  he  hath 
proportionably  the  least  measure  of  abilities  and  helps  to  discover 
it,  and  the  greatest  measure  of  all  the  fore-mentioneti  hindrances. 
He  that  hath  but  a  very  little  repentance,  faith,  love,  and  obedi- 
ence sincere,  when  he  goeth  to  find  it  out,  he  hath,  in  the  same 
measure,  a  darker  understanding  to  discern  it  than  others  have  ; 
and  a  greater  strangeness  and  disacquaintance  with  himself;  and 
more  deceitfulness  in  his  heart,  and  a  greater  confusion  and  hurly- 
burly  in  his  thoughts  and  affections,  and  all  more  out  of  order  and 
to  seek.  Also  he  hath  a  greater  backwardness  to  the  work  of 
self-examination,  and  can  hardly  get  his  heart  to  it,  and  more 
.hardly  to  do  it  thoroughly,  and  search  to  the  quick,  and  most 
hardly  to  hold  on  against  all  withdrawing  temptations,  till  he  have 
made  a  clearer  discovery.  And  lastly,  his  soul  is  more  mutable 
than  stronger  Christians  are ;  and  therefore  when  cross  actings  are 
so  frequent,  he  cannot  discern  the  smallest  prevailing  habit.  If 
(when  you  are  weighing  gold)  the  scales  be  turned  with  but  one 
grain,  every  little  jog,  or  wind,  or  unsteadfast  holding,  will  actually 
lift  up  the  heavier  end ;  and  its  preponderation  is  with  great  waver- 
ing and  mobility.  8.  Yet  further,  consider,  that  those  that  have 
least  grace,  have  most  sin,  habitual  and  actual;  and  they  are  so 
frequent  in  transgressing,  that  their  failings  are  still  in  their  eye, 
and  thereby  the  prevalency  of  Christ's  interest  is  made  more  doubt- 
ful and  obscure.  For  when  he  asketh  his  own  conscience,  '  Do  I 
will  or  love  most  the  world  and  my  fleshly  delights,  or  Christ  and 
his  ways  ?  '• — presently  conscience  remembereth  him.  At  such  a 
time,  and  such  a  time,  thou  didst  choose  thy  fleshly  pleasures,  profits, 
or  credit,  and  refuse  obedience;  and  it  is  so  oft,  and  so  foully, 
that  the  soul  is  utterly  at  a  loss,  and  cannot  discern  the  habitu- 
al prevalent  bent  and  resolution  of  the  will.  9.  Besides,  con- 
science is  a  judge  in  man's  soul,  and  will  be  accusing  and 
condemning  men  so  far  as  they  are  guilty.  Now,  they  that 
make  work  for  the  most  frequent  and  terrible  accusations  of  con- 
science that  will  stand  with  true  grace,  are  unlikely  to  have  assur- 
ance. For  assurance  quiets  the  soul,  and  easeth  it;  and  a  galled 
conscience  works  the  contrary  way.  They  that  keep  open  the 
wound,  and  daily  fret  off"  the  skin  more,  and  are  still  grating  on 
the  galled  part,  are  unlikely  to  have  assurance.  10.  Again,  these 
weakest  Christians  being  least  in  duty,  and  most  in  sinning,  (of  any 
in  whom  sin  reigneth  not,)  they  are  consequently  most  in  provok- 


SPIRITUAL.    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  299 

ing  and  displeasing  God.  And  they  that  do  so  shall  find  that  God 
will  show  them  his  displeasure,  and  will  displease  them  again. 
They  must  not  look  to  enjoy  assurance,  or  see  the  pleased  face  of 
God,  till  they  are  more  careful  to  please  him,  and  are  more  sparing, 
and  seldom  in  offending  him.  As  God's  universal  justice,  in  gov- 
erning the  world,  will  make  as  great  a  difference  between  the  sin- 
cerely obedient  and  disobedient  as  there  is  between  heaven  and 
hell,  so  God's  paternal  justice,  in  governing  his  family,  will  make 
as  wide  a  difference  between  the  more  obedient  children  and  the 
less  obedient,  as  is  between  his  dreadful  frowns  and  his  joyous, 
reviving  smiles;  or  between  the  smarting  rod  or  his  encouraging 
rewards.  1 1 .  If  God  should  give  assurance  and  peace  to  the  sin- 
ning and  least  obedient  believers,  he  should  not  fit  his  providential 
disposals  to  their  good.  It  is  not  that  which  their  state  requires, 
nor  would  it  tend  to  their  cure  any  more  than  a  healing  plaster  to 
a  sore  that  is  rotten  in  the  bottom,  or  a  cordial  to  the  removal  of  a 
cacochymy,  or  the  purging  out  of  cormpt,  redundant  humors. 
They  are  so  inclined  to  the  lethargy  of  security,  that  they  have 
need  of  continual  pinching,  striking,  or  loud  calling  on,  to  keep 
them  waking;  still  remember  that  by  this  weak  Christian,  I  mean 
not  every  doubting,  distressed  soul  that  is  weak  in  their  own  ap- 
prehension, and  little  in  their  own  eyes,  and  poor  in  spirit;  but  I 
mean  those  that  have  the  least  measure  of  sincere  love  to  Christ, 
and  desire  after  him,  and  tenderness  of  conscience,  and  care  to 
please  God,  and  the  greatest  measure  of  security,  worldliness, 
pride,  flesh-pleasing,  and  boldness  in  sinning,  which  is  consistent 
with  sincerity  in  the  faith.  I  believe  there  is  no  father  or  mother, 
that  hath  children  to  govern,  but  they  know  by  experience,  that 
there  is  a  necessity  of  frowns  and  rods  for  the  more  disobedient ; 
and  that  rewards  and  smiles  are  no  cure  for  stubbornness  or  con- 
tempt. 12.  Lastly,  do  but  well  consider,  what  a  solecism  in  gov- 
ernment it  would  be,  and  what  desperate  inconveniences  it  would 
have  brought  into  the  world,  if  God  .should  have  set  such  a  punc- 
tual landmark  between  his  kingdom  and  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  as 
we  are  ready  to  dream  of.  If  God  should  have  said  in  his  word, 
just  so  oft  a  man  may  be  drunk,  or  may  murder,  or  commit, 
adultery,  or  steal,  or  forswear  himself,  and  yet  be  a  true  Christian, 
and  be  saved !  Or  just  so  far  a  man  may  go,  in  neglecting  duty  to 
God  and  man,  and  in  cherishing  his  flesh,  hidhig  his  sin,  &ic.,  and 
yet  be  a  true  believer  and  be  saved.  This  would  imbolden  men 
in  winning,  and  make  them  think,  I  may  yet  venture,  for  I  stand  on 
safe  ground.  And  it  would  hinder  repentance.  Indeed,  it  would 
be  the  way  to  rob  God  of  his  honor,  and  multiply  provocations 
against  him,  and  keep  his  children  in  disobedience,  and  hinder 
their  growth  in  holiness,  and  cause  a  deformitv  in  Christ's  body, 


"*& 


300  DlRl^CTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPIN-G 

and  a  shame  to  his  rehgion  and  sacred  name.  As  for  those  that 
say,  Assurance  never  encourageth  men  in  sin,  but  tends  to  destroy 
it ;  1  answer,  it  is  true  of  God's  assurance,  seasonably  given  to  those 
that  are  fit  for  it,  and  used  by  them  accordingly.  But  if  God 
should  have  told  all  the  world,  just  how  far  they  may  sin,  and  yet 
be  certain  of  salvation,  this  would  have  bred  assurance  in  those 
that  were  unfit  for  it ;  and  it  would  have  been  but  the  putting  of 
new  wine  into  old  cracked  bottles,  or  a  new  piece  into  an  old  gar- 
ment, that  would  break  them,  or  make  worse  the  rent.  I  must 
therefore  tell  these  objectors  (I  am  sorry  that  so  many  of  my  old 
acquaintance  now  harp  so  much  on  this  Antinomian  string)  that 
ignorance  or  error  hath  so  blinded  them,  that  they  have  forgotten,  or 
know  not,  1.  What  an  imperfect  piece  the  best  is  in  this  life,  much 
more  the  worst  true  Christian.  2.  Nor  what  a  subtle  devil  we  have 
to  tempt  us.  3.  Nor  what  an  active  thing  corruption  is,  and  what 
advantage  it  will  take  on  unreasonable  assurance.  4.  Nor  what 
the  nature  of  grace  and  sanctification  is ;  and  how  much  of  it  lies 
in  a  godly  jealousy  of  ourselves,  and  apprehension  of  our  danger, 
and  that  "  the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom :  "  see  Heb. 
iv.  1.  Nay,  5.  They  have  forgotten  what  a  man  is,  and  how  in- 
separable from  his  nature  is  the  principle  of  self-preservation,  and 
how  necessary  the  apprehension  of  danger,  and  the  fear  of  evil  to 
himself,  is  to  the  avoiding  of  that  evil,  and  so  to  his  preservation. 
6.  Yea,  if  they  knew  but  what  a  commonwealth  or  a  family  is, 
they  would  know  that  fear  of  evil,  and  desire  of  self-preservation, 
is  the  v»ry  motive  to  associations,  and  the  ground-work  of  all  laws 
and  government,  and  a  great  part  of  the  life  of  all  obedience. 

And  thus  I  have  fully  proved  to  you,  that  the  smallest  measure 
of  grace  cannot  help  men  to  assurance  in  God's  ordinary  way. 

Perhaps  you  will  say,  '  What  comfort  is  there  in  this  to  a  poor, 
weak  Christian  ? '  This  is  rather  the  way  to  put  him  quite  out  of 
heart  and  hope.  I  answer,  no  such  matter.  Ishallshow^  the  uses 
of  this  observation  in  the  following  Directions.  In  the  mean  time, 
I  will  say  but  this.  The  expectation  of  unseasonable  assurance, 
and  out  of  God's  way,  is  a  very  great  cause  of  keeping  many  in 
languishing  and  distress,  and  of  causing  others  to  turn  Antinomi- 
ans,  and  snatch  at  comforts  which  God  never  gave  them,  and  to 
feign  and  frame  an  assurance  of  their  own  making,  or  build  upon 
the  delusions  of  the  great  deceiver,  transforming  himself  into  an 
angel  of  light. 

Direct.  XIII.  From  the  last-mentioned  observation,  there  is  one 
plain  consectary  arising,  which  I  think  you  may  do  well  to  note  by 
the  way,  viz.  '  That,  according  to  God's  ordinary  \vay  of  giving 
grace,  it  cannot  be  expected  that  Christians  should  be  able  to  know 
the  very  time  of  their  first  receiving  or  acting  true  saving  grace, 


■■^: 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT,  301 

or  just  when  they  were  pardoned,  justified,  adopted,  and  put  into 
a  state  of  salvation.' 

This  must  needs  be  undeniable,  if  you  grant  the  former  point. 
That  the  least  measure  of  grace  yieldeth  not  assurance  of  its  sin- 
cerity, (which  is  proved  ;)  and  withal,  if  you  grant  this  plain  truth, 
That  it  is  God's  ordinary  way  to  give  a  small  measure  of  grace  at 
the  first.  This  I  prove  thus:  1.  Christ  likeneth  God's  kingdom 
of  grace  to  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  which  is,  at  the  first,  the  least 
of  all  seeds,  but  after,  cometli  to  a  tree ;  and  to  a  little  leaven, 
which  leaveneth  the  whole  lump.  I  will  not  deny  but  this  may 
be  applied  to  the  visible  progress  of  the  gospel,  and  increase  of  the 
cliurch.  But  it  is  plainly  applicable  also  to  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
Xvithin  us.  2.  The  Scripture  oft  calleth  such  young  beginners, 
babes,  children,  novices,  he.  3.  We  are  all  commanded  to  grow 
in  grace;  which  implieth,  that  we  have  our  smallest  measure  at 
the  first.  4.  Heb.  v.  12.  showeth  that  strength  of  grace  should 
be  according  to  time  and  means.  5.  Common  experience  is  an 
invincible  argument  for  this.  Men  are  at  a  distance  from  Christ, 
when  he  first  calleth  them  to  come  to  him;  and  many  steps 
they  have  toward  him  before  they  reach  to  him.  We  are  first  so 
far  enlightened  as  to  see  our  sin  and  misery,  and  the  meaning 
and  truth  of  the  gospel,  and  so  roused  out  of  our  security,  and 
made  to  look  about  us,  and  see  that  we  have  souls  to  save  or 
lose,  and  that  it  is  no  jesting  matter  to  be  a  Christian.  And  so 
we  come  to  understand  the  tenor  of  this  covenant,  and  Christ's 
terms  of  saving  men.  But,  alas,  how  long  is  it  usually  after 
this,  before  we  come  sincerely  to  yield  to  his  terms,  and  take  hin'v 
as  he  is  offered,  and  renounce  the  world,  flesh,  and  the  devil, 
and  give  up  ourselves  to  him  in  a  faithful  covenant !  We  are  long 
dehberating  before  we  can  get  our  backward  hearts  to  resolve. 
How,  then,  should  a  man  know  just  when  he  was  past  the  highest 
step  of  common  or  preparative  grace,  and  aiTived  at  the  first  step 
of  special  grace? 

Yet  mark,  that  I  here  speak  only  of  God's  ordinary  way  of 
giving  grace ;  for  I  doubt  not,  but  in  some  God  may  give  a  higher 
degree  of  grace  at  the  first  day  of  conversion,  than  some  others  do 
attain  in  many  years.  And  those  may  know  the  time  of  their 
true  conversion,  both  because  the  effect  was  discernible,  and 
because  the  suddenness  makes  the  change  more  sensible  and 
observable. 

But  this  is  not  the  ordinary  course.  Ordinarily,  convictions  He 
long  on  the  soul  before  they  come  to  a  true  conversion.  Con- 
science is  wounded,  and  smarting;  lonjj,  and  lonsj  grudiring  against 
our  smful  and  negligent  courses,  and  telling  us  of  the  necessity  of 
Christ,  and  a  holy  life,  before  we  sincerely  obey  conscience,  and 


302        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

give  ourselves  up  to  Christ.  We  seldom  yield  to  the  first  convic- 
tion or  persuasion.  Tlie  flesh  hath  usually  too  long  time  given  it 
to  plead  its  own  cause,  and  to  say  to  the  soul,  'Wilt  thou  forsake 
all  thy  pleasure,  and  merry  company,  and  courses?  Wilt  thou 
beggar  thyself?  or  make  thyself  a  scorn,  or  mocking-stock  to  the 
world  ?  Art  thou  ever  able  to  hold  out  in  so  strict  a  course  ?  and 
to  be  undone  ?  and  to  forsake  all,  and  lay  down  thy  life  for  Christ  ? 
Is  it  not  better  to  venture  thyself  in  the  same  way  as  thou  hast 
gone  in,  as  well  as  others  do,  and  so  many  of  thy  forefathers  have 
done  before  thee  ? '  Under  such  sinful  deliberations  as  these  we 
usually  continue  long  before  w^e  fully  resolve ;  and  many  demurs 
and  delays  we  make  before  we  conclude  to  take  Christ  on  the 
terms  that  he  is  offered  to  us.  Now,  I  make  no  doubt  but  most  or 
many  Christians  can  remember  how  and  when  God  stuTed  their 
consciences,  and  wakened  them  from  their  security,  and  made 
them  look  about  them,  and  roused  them  out  of  their  natural  leth- 
argy. Some  can  tell  what  sermon  first  did  it ;  others  can  remem- 
ber by  what  degi-ees  and  steps  God  was  doing  it  long.  The  ordi- 
nary way  appointed  by  God  for  the  doing  of  it  first,  is  the  instruc- 
tion of  parents.  And  (as  I  have  more  fiilly  manifested  in  my 
Book  of  Infant  Baptism)  if  parents  would  do  their  duties,  they 
would  find  that  the  word  publicly  preached  was  not  appointed  to 
be  the  first  ordinary  means  of  conversion  and  sanctification ;  but 
commonly,  grace  would  be  received  in  childhood ;  I  speak  not  of 
baptismal  relative  grace,  consisting  in  the  pardon  of  original  sin, 
nor  yet  any  infusion  of  habits  before  they  have  the  use  of  reason, 
^because  I  suppose  it  is  hid  from  us  what  God  doth  in  that,)  but  I 
speak  of  actual  conversion;  and  I  prove  that  this  should  be  the 
first  ordinary  way  and  time  of  conversion  to  the  children  of  true 
Christians,  because  it  is  the  first  means  that  God  hath  appointed  to 
be  used  with  them ;  Deut.  vi.  &■ — 8.  Eph.  vi.  4.  Parents  are 
commanded  to  teach  their  children  the  law  of  God  urgently  at 
home,  and  as  they  walk  abroad,  lying  down  and  rising  up  ;  and  to 
bring  them  up  in  the  admonition  and  nurture  of  the  Lord,  and  to 
*'  train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  they  are  old 
they  will  not  depart  from  it ; "  Prov.  xxii.  6.  And  children  are 
commanded  to  "  remember  their  Creator  in  the  days  of  their 
youth  ;"  Eccles.  xii.  1.  And  if  this  be  God's  first  great  means,  then 
doubtless  he  will  ordinarily  bless  his  own  means  here,  as  well  as  in 
the  preaching  of  the  word. 

From  all  this  I  would  have  you  learn  this  lesson,  That  you  ought 
not  trouble  yourself  with  fears  and  doubts,  lest  you  are  not  truly 
regenerate,  because  you  know  not  the  sermon,  or  the  very  time 
and  manner  of  your  conversion  ;  but  find  that  you  have  grace,  and 
then,  though  you  know  not  just  the  time  and  rhanner  of  your  re- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  303 

ceiving  it,  yet  you  may  nevertheless  be  assured  of  salvation  by  it. 
Search,  therefore,  what  you  are,  and  how  your  will  is  disposed  and 
resolved,  and  how  your  life  is  ordered,  rather  than  to  know  how 
you  became  such.  1  know  the  workings  of  the  Spirit  on  the  soul 
may  be  discerned,  because  they  stir  up  discernible  actings  in  our 
own  spirits.  The  soul's  convictions,  considerations,  resolutions,  and 
affections,  are  no  insensible  things.  But  yet  the  work  of  grace 
usually  begins  in  common  gi-ace,  and  so  proceeds  by  degrees  till  it 
come  to  a  special  saving  grace,  even  as  the  work  of  nature  doth, 
first  producing  the  matter,  and  then  introducing  the  form ;  first 
producing  the  embryo,  before  it  introduce  a  rational  soul.  And 
as  no  child  knows  the  time  or  manner  of  its  own  formation,  vivifi- 
cation  or  reception  of  that  soul,  so  I  think  few  true  beJievers  can 
say,  just  such  a  day,  or  at  such  a  sermon,  I  became  a  true  justified, 
sanctified  man.  That  was  the  hour  of  your  tme  conversion  and 
justification,  when  you  fii-st  preferred  God,  and  Christ,  and  grace, 
before  all  things  in  this  world,  and  deliberately  and  seriously  re- 
solved to  take  Christ  for  your  Savior  and  Governor,  and  give  up 
yourself  to  him  to  be  saved,  taught  and  governed,  and  to  obey  him 
faithfully  to  the  death  against  all  temptations,  whatsoever  you  shall 
lose  or  suffer  by  it.  Now,  I  would  but  ask  those  very  Christians 
that  think  they  do  know  the  very  sermon  that  converted  them ; 
Did  that  sermon  bring  you  to  this  resolution  ?  Or  was  it  not  only 
some  troubling,  rousing  preparation  hereto  ?  I  think  some  desperate 
sickness  or  the  like  affliction  is  a  very  usual  means  to  bring  resolu- 
tions to  be  downright  and  fixed,  with  many  souls  that  long  delayed 
and  fluctuated  in  unresolvedness,  and  lay  under  mere  ineffectual 
convictions. 

Object.  '  But  this  runs  on  your  own  grounds,  that  saving  grace 
and  common  gi-ace  do  but  differ  in  degrees.' 

Answ.  I  think  most  will  confess  that,  as  to  the  acts  of  grace, 
and  that  is  it  that  we  are  now  inquiring  after ;  and  that  is  all  the 
means  that  we  have  of  discerning  the  habits.  Yet  remember  that 
I  still  tell  you,  '  That  there  is  a  special  moral  difference,  though 
grounded  but  in  a  gradual  natural  difference.'  Yea,  and  that  one 
grain  of  the  Spirit's  working,  which  turns  the  will  in  a  prevalent 
measure  for  Christ,  (together  with  the  illumination  necessary  there- 
to,) deserves  all  those  eulogies  and  higli  titles  that  are  given  it  in 
the  word ;  so  great  a  change  doth  it  make  in  the  soid  !  Well  may 
it  be  called  '  The  new  creature  ;'  '  Born  of  the  Spirit ;'  '  The 
new  life ;'  yea,  '  The  image  of  God,'  and  '  The  divine  nature,' 
(if  that  text  be  not  meant  of  the  divine  nature  in  Christ  which  we 
are  relatively  made  partakers  of  in  our  union  with  him.)  When 
you  are  weighing  things  in  the  balance,  you  may  add  grain  after 
grain,  and  it  makes  no  turnino;  or  motion  at  all  till  vou  come  to  the 


304        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

very  last  grain,  and  then  suddenly  that  end  which  was  downward  is 
turned  upward.  When  you  stand  at  a  loss  between  two  highways, 
and  know  not  which  way  to  go,  as  long  as  you  are  deliberate,  you 
stand  still :  all  the  reasons  that  come  into  your  mind  do  not  stir 
you  ;  but  the  last  reason  which  resolves  you,  setteth  you  in  motion. 
So  is  it  in  the  change  of  a  sinner's  heart  and  life  ;  he  is  not  changed 
(but  prejDaring  towards  it)  while  he  is  but  deliberating,  whether  he 
should  choose  Christ  or  the  world.  But  the  last  reason  that  comes 
in  and  determineth  his  will  to  Christ,  and  makes  him  resolve  and 
enter  a  firm  covenant  with  Christ,  and  say,  '  I  will  have  Christ  for 
better  or  worse  ;'  this  maketh  the  greatest  change  that  ever  is  made 
by  any  work  in  this  world.  For  how  can  there  be  greater  than 
the  turning»of  a  soul  from  the  creature  to  the  Creator  ?  So  distant 
are  the  terms  of  this  change.  After  this  one  turning  act,  Christ 
hath  that  heart,  and  the  main  bent  and  endeavors  of  the  life,  which 
the  world  had  before.  The  man  hath  a  new  end,  a  new  rule  and 
guide,  and  a  new  master.  Before  the  flesh  and  the  devil  were  his 
masters,  and  now  Christ  is  his  master.  So  that  you  must  not  think 
so  meanly  of  the  turning,  determining,  resolving  act  of  grace,  be- 
cause it  lieth  but  in  a  gradual  difference  naturally  from  common 
grace.  If  a  prince  should  offer  a  condemned  beggar  to  marry  her, 
and  to  pardon  her,  and  make  her  his  queen,  her  deliberation  may 
be  the  way  to  her  consent,  and  one  reason  after  another  may  bring 
her  near  to  consenting.  But  it  is  that  which  turns  her  will  to  con- 
sent, resolve,  covenant  and  deliver  herself  to  him,  which  makes  the 
great  change  in  her  state.  Yet  all  the  foregoing  work  of  common 
grace  hath  a  hand  in  the  change,  though  only  the  turning  resolution 
do  effect  it :  it  is  the  rest  with  this  that  doth  it ;  as  when  the  last 
grain  turns  the  scales,  the  former  do  concur.  I  will  conclude  with 
Dr.  Preston's  words,  in  his  "  Golden  Sceptre,"  page  210 :  Object. 

*  It  seems,  then,  that  the  knowledge  of  a  carnal  man,  and  of  a  re- 
generate man,  do  differ  but  in  degrees  and  not  in  kind.'     Anstv. 

*  The  want  of  degrees  here  alters  the  kind,  as  in  numbers,  the  addi- 
tion of  a  degree  alters  the  species  and  kind.'  Read  for  this,  also. 
Dr.  Jackson,  "  Of  Saving  Faith,"  sect.  iii.  chap.  iii.  pp.  297,  298, 
and  frequently  in  other  places.     So  much  for  that  observation. 

Direct.  XIV.  Yet  further  I  would  have  you  to  understand  this : 

*  That  as  the  least  measure  of  saving  grace  is  ordinarily  undiscerni- 
ble  from  the  greatest  measure  of  common  grace,  (notwithstanding 
the  greatness  of  the  change  that  it  makes,)  so  a  measure  somewhat 
greater  is  so  hardly  discernible,  that  it  seldom  brings  assurance ; 
and  therefore  it  is  only  the  stronger  Christians  that  attain  assurance 
ordinarily ;  even  those  who  have  a  great  degree  of  faith  and  love, 
and  keep  them  much  in  exercise,  and  are  very  watchful  and  care- 
ful in  obedience ;  and  consequently  (most  Christians  being  of  the 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT,  305 

weaker  sort)  it  is  but  few  that  do  attain  to  assurance  of  their  justifi- 
cation and  salvation.' 

Here  are  two  or  three  points  which  I  would  have  you  distinctly 
to  observe,  though  I  lay  them  all  together  for  brevity.  1 .  That  it 
is  only  a  greater  measure  of  grace  that  will  ordinarily  afford  assur- 
ance. 2.  That  therefore  it  is  only  the  stronger,  and  holier,  and 
more  obedient  sort  of  Christians  tJiat  usually  reach  to  a  certainty  of 
salvation.  3.  That  few  Christians  do  reach  to  a  strong  or  high  de- 
gree of  grace.  4.  And  therefore  it  is  but  few  Christians  that  reach 
to  assurance. 

For  the  two  first  of  these  it  will  evidently  appear  that  they  are 
true,  by  revievving  the  reasons  which  I  gave  of  the  last  point  save 
one.  He  that  will  attain  to  a  certainty  of  salvation,  must,  1.  Have 
a  large  measure  of  grace  to  be  discerned.  2.  He  must  have  that 
grace  much  in  action,  and  lively  action ;  for  it  is  not  mere  habits 
that  are  discernible.  3.  He  must  have  a  clear  understanding  to  be 
acquainted  with  the  nature  of  spiritual  things ;  to  know  what  is  a 
sound  evidence,  and  how  to  follow  the  search,  and  how  to  repel 
particular  temptations.  4.  He  must  have  a  good  acquaintance  and 
familiarity  with  his  own  heart,  and  to  that  end  must  be  much  at 
home,  and  be  used  sometimes  to  a  diligent  observation  of  his  heart 
and  ways.  5.  He  must  be  in  a  good  measure  acquainted  with, 
and  a  conqueror  of  contradicting  temptations.  6.  He  must  have 
some  competent  cure  of  the  deceitfulness  of  the  heart,  and  it  must 
be  brought  to  an  open,  plain,  ingenuous  frame,  willing  to  know  the 
worst  of  itself.  7.  He  must  have  some  cure  of  that  ordinary  con- 
ftision  and  tumultuous  disorder  that  is  in  the  thought  and  affections 
of  men,  and  get  things  into  an  order  in  his  mind.  8.  He  must  be 
a  man  of  diligence,  resolution,  and  unwearied  patience,  that  will 
resolvedly  set  on  the  work  of  self-examination,  and  painfully  watch 
in  it,  and  constantly  follow  it  from  time  to  time  till  he  attain  a  cer- 
tainty. 9.  He  must  be  one  that  is  very  fearful  of  sinning,  and 
careful  in  close  obedient  walking  with  God,  and  much  in  sincere 
and  spiritual  duty,  that  he  keep  not  conscience  still  in  accusing  and 
condemning  him,  and  God  still  offended  with  him,  and  his  wounds 
firesh  bleeding,  and  his  soul  still  smarting.  10.  He  must  be  a  man 
of  much  fixedness  and  constancy  of  mind,  and  not  of  the  ordinary 
mutability  of  mankind ;  that  so  he  may  not,  by  remitting  his  zeal 
and  diligence,  lose  the  sight  of  his  evidences,  nor,  by  leaving  open 
his  soul  to  an  alteration  by  every  new  intruding  thought  and 
temptation,  let  go  his  assurance  as  soon  as  he  attaineth  it.  All 
these  things  in  a  good  degree  are  necessary  to  the  attaining  of 
assurance  of  salvation. 

And  then  do  I  need  to  say  any  more  to  the  confirmation  of  the 
third  point,  That  few  Christians  reach  this  measure  of  grace  ?  O 
voL>  I.  39 


306  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

that  it  were  not  as  clear  as  the  light,  and  as  discernible  as  the  earth 
under  our  feet,  that  most  true  Christians  are  weaklings,  and  of  the 
lower  forms  in  the  school  of  Christ !  Alas,  how  ignorant  are  most 
of  the  best !  How  httle  love,  or  faith,  or  zeal,  or  heavenly-minded- 
ness,  or  delight  in  God,  have  they!  'How  unacquainted  with  the 
way  of  self-examination  !  And  how  backward  to  it !  And  how 
dull  and  careless  in  it !  Doing  it  by  the  halves,  as  Laban  searched 
Rachel's  tent  I  How  easily  put  off  with  an  excuse  !  How  little 
acquainted  with  their  own  hearts !  Or  with  Satan's  temptations 
and  ways  of  deceiving !  How  much  deceitfulness  remaineth  in 
their  hearts  !  How  confused  are  their  minds  !  And  what  distrac- 
tions and  tumults  are  there  in  their  thoughts !  How  bold  are  they 
in  sinning  I  And  how  little  tenderness  of  conscience  and  care  of 
obeying  have  they !  How  frequently  do  they  wound  conscience, 
provoke  God,  and  obscure  their  evidences !  And  how  mutable 
their  apprehensions  !  And  how  soon  do  they  lose  that  assurance 
which  they  once  attained !  And  upon  every  occasion  quite  lose 
the  sight  of  their  evidences !  Yea,  and  remit  their  actual  resolu- 
tions, and  so  lose  much  of  the  evidence  itself!  Is  not  this  the 
common  case  of  godly  people  ?  O  that  we  could  truly  deny  it. 
Let  their  lives  be  witness ;  let  the  visible  neglects,  worldliness, 
pride,  impatiency  of  plain  reproof,  remissness  of  zeal,  dulness  and 
customariness  in  duty,  strangeness  to  God,  unwillingness  to  secret 
prayer  and  meditation,  unacquaintedness  with  the  Spirit's  operations 
and  joys,  their  unpeaceableness  one  with  another,  and  their  too 
frequent  blemishing  the  glory  of  their  holy  profession  by  the  un- 
evenness  of  their  walking, — let  all  these  witness,  whether  the  school 
of  Christ  have  not  most  children  in  it;  and  very  few  of  them  ever 
go  to  the  university  of  riper  knowledge :  and  how  few  of  those 
are  fit  to  begin  here  the  works  of  their  priestly  office,  which  they 
must  live  in  forever,  in  the  high  and  joyful  praises  of  God,  and 
of  the  Lamb,  who  hath  redeemed  them  by  his  blood,  and  made 
them  kings  and  priests  to  God,  that  they  may  reign  with  him  for- 
ever !  I  am  content  to  stand  to  the  judgment  of  all  humble,  self- 
knowing  Christians,  whether  this  be  not  tme  of  most  of  themselves ; 
and  for  those  that  deny  it,  I  will  stand  to  the  judgment  of  their 
godly  neighbors,  who  perhaps  know  them  better  than  tliey  know 
themselves. 

And  then  this  being  all  so,  the  fourth  point  is  undeniable,  That 
it  is  but  very  few  Christians  that  reach  to  assurance  of  salvation. 
If  any  think  (as  intemperate,  hot-spirited  men  are  like  enough  to 
charge  me)  that  in  all  this  I  countenance  the  Popish  doctrine  of 
doubting  and  uncertainty,  and  contradict  the  common  doctrine  of 
the  reformed  divines  that  write  against  them;  I  answer,  I.  That 
1  do  contradict  both  the  Papists  that  deny  assurance,  and  many 


SPIRITfiL    PEACE    AN'D    COMFORT.  307 

foreign  writers,  who  make  it  far  more  easy,  common,  and  necessa- 
ry than  it  is,  (much  more  both  them  and  the  Antinomists,  who  place 
justifying  faith  in  it.)  But  I  stand  in  the  midst  between  both  ex- 
tremes ;  and  I  think  I  have  the  company  of  most  Enghsh  divines. 
2.  I  come  not  to  be  of  this  mind  merely  by  reading  books,  but 
mainly  by  reading  my  own  heart,  and  consulting  my  own  experi- 
ence, and  the  experience  of  a  very  great  number  of  godly  people 
of  all  sorts,  who  have  opened  their  hearts  to  me,  for  almost  twenty 
years'  time.  3.  I  would  entreat  the  gainsayersto  study  their  own 
hearts  better  for  some  considerable  time,  and  to  be  more  in  hearing 
the  case  and  complaints  of  godly  people ;  and  by  that  time  they 
may  happily  come  to  be  of  my  mind.  4.  See  whether  all  those 
divines  that  have  been  very  practical  and  successful  in  the  work 
of  God,  and  much  acquainted  with  the  way  of  recovery  of  lost  souls, 
be  not  all  of  the  same  judgment  as  myself  in  this  point,  (such  as 
T.  Hooker,  Jo.  Rogers,  Preston,  Sibbs,  Bolton,  Dod,  Culverwell, 
etc.,)  and  whether  the  most  confident  men  for  the  contrary  be 
not  those  that  study  books  more  than  hearts,  and  spend  their  days 
in  disputing,  and  not  in  winning  souls  to  God  from  the  world. 

Lastly,  Let  me  add,  to  what  is  said,  these  two  proofs  of  this 
fourth  point  here  asserted. 

L  The  constant  experience  of  the  greatest  part  of  believers  tells 
us  that  certainty  of  salvation  is  very  rare.  Even  of  those  that  live 
comfortably  and  in  peace  of  conscience,  yet  very  few  of  them  do 
attain  to  a  certainty.  For  my  part,  it  is  known  that  God,  in  unde- 
served mercy,  hath  given  me  long  the  society  of  a  great  number 
of  godly  people,  and  great  interest  in  them,  and  privacy  with  them, 
and  opportunity  to  know  their  minds,  and  this  in  many  places,  (my 
station  by  Providence  having  been  oft  removed  ;)  and  I  must  needs 
profess,  that,  of  all  these,  I  have  met  with  few,  yea,  very  few  in- 
deed, that,  if  I  seriously  and  privately  asked  them,  'Are  you  cer- 
tain that  you  are  a  true  believer,  and  so  are  justified,  and  shall  be 
saved  ? '  durst  say  to  me,  '  I  am  certain  of  it.'  But  some  in  great 
doubts  and  fears :  most  too  secure  and  neglective  of  their  states 
without  assurance,  and  some  in  so  good  hopes  (to  speak  in  their  own 
language)  as  calmeth  their  spirits  that  they  comfortably  cast  them- 
selves on  God  in  Christ.  And  those  few  that  have  gone  so  far 
beyond  all  the  rest,  as  to  say,  '  They  were  certain  of  their  sinceri- 
ty and  salvation,'  were  the  professors  whose  state  I  suspected 
more  than  any  of  the  rest,  as  being  the  most  proud,  self-conceited, 
censorious,  passionate,  unpeaceable  sort  of  professors  ;  and  some  of 
them  living  scandalously,  and  some  fallen  since  to  more  scandalous 
ways  than  ever ;  and  the  most  of  their  humble,  godly  acquaintance 
and  neighbors  suspected  them  as  well  as  L  Or  else  some  very 
few  of  them  that  said  they  were  certain,  were  honest  godly  people 


308         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

(most  women)  of  small  judgment  and  strong  affections,  who  depend- 
ed most  on  that  which  is  commonly  called  '  the  sense  or  feeling 
of  God's  love  ; '  and  were  the  lowest  at  some  times  as  they  were 
the  highest  at  other  times ;  and  they  that  were  one  month  certain 
to  be  saved,  perhaps  the  next  month  were  almost  ready  to  say, 
they  should  certainly  be  damned.  So  that  taking  out  all  these 
sorts  of  persons,  the  sober,  solid,  judicious  believers  that  could 
groundedly  and  ordinarily  say,  '  I  am  certain  that  I  shall  be  saved,' 
have  been  so  few,  that  it  is  sad  to  me  to  consider  it.  If  any  other 
men's  experience  be  contrary,  I  am  glad  of  it,  so  be  it  they  be  so- 
ber, judicious  men,  able  to  gather  experiences ;  and  so  they  live 
not  among  mere  Antinomians,  and  take  not  the  discovery  of  their 
mere  opinion  for  a  discovery  of  experience.  For  I  have  seen,  in 
divers  professors  of  my  long  acquaintance,  the  strange  power  of 
opinion  and  fancy  in  this  thing.  I  have  known  those  that  have 
lived  many  years  in  doubting  of  their  salvation,  and  all  that  while 
walked  uprightly  :  and  in  the  late  wars,  falling  into  the  company  of 
some  Anabaptists,  they  were  by  them  persuaded  that  there  was  no 
right  way  to  their  comfort,  but  by  being  re-baptized,  and  associat- 
ing themselves  with  the  re-baptized  chifrch,  and  abstaining  from 
the  hearing  of  the  unbaptized  parish-priests,  (as  they  called  them.) 
No  sooner  was  this  done,  but  all  their  foi-mer  doubtings  and  trou- 
bles were  over,  and  they  were  as  comfortable  as  any  others,  (as 
themselves  affirmed,)  w^hich  no  doubt  proceeded  from  partly  the 
strength  of  fancy,  conceiting  it  should  be  so ;  and  partly  from  the 
novelty  of  their  way  which  delighted  them  ;  and  partly  from  the 
strong  opinion  they  had  that  this  was  the  way  of  salvation,  and  that  the 
want  of  this  did  keep  them  in  the  dark  so  long ;  and  partly  from 
Satan's  policy,  who  troubleth  people  least  when  they  are  in  a  way 
that  pleaseth  him  ;  but  when  these  people  had  lived  a  year  or  two 
in  this  comfortable  condition,  they  fell  at  last  into  the  society  of 
some  Libertines  or  Familists,  who  believe  that  the  Scriptures  are 
all  but  a  dream,  fiction,  or  allegory  ;  these  presently  persuaded  them, 
that  they  were  fools  to  regard  baptism  or  such  ordinances,  and 
that  they  might  come  to  hear  again  in  our  congregations,  seeing  all 
things  were  lawflil,  and  there  was  no  heaven  or  hell  but  within  men, 
and  therefore  they  should  look  to  their  safety  and  credit  in  the 
world,  and  take  their  pleasure.  This  lesson  was  quickly  learned, 
and  then  they  cried  down  the  Anabaptists,  and  confessed  they 
were  deluded,  and  so  being  grown  loose  while  they  were  Anabap- 
tists, to  mend  the  matter  they  grew  Epicures  when  they  had  been 
instructed  by  the  Libertines ;  and  this  was  the  end  of  their  new- 
gotten  comfort.  Others  I  have  known  that  have  wanted  assurance, 
and  falling  among  the  Antinomians,  were  told  by  them  that  they 
undid  themselves  by  looking  after  signs  and  marks  of  grace,  and  so 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE   AND    COMFORT.  809 

\ay\x\g  their  comforts  upon  something  in  themselves  ;  whereas  they 
should  look  only  to  Christ  for  comfort,  and  not  at  any  thing  in  them- 
selves at  all ;  and  f(3r  assurance,  it  is  only  the  witness  of  the  Spirit 
without  any  marks  that  must  give  it  them ;  and  to  fetch  comfort 
from  their  own  graces  and  obedience,  was  to  make  it  themselves 
instetd  of  Christ  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  was  a  legal  way.  No 
sooner  was  this  doctrine  received,  but  the  receivers  had  comfort  at 
will,  and  all  was  sealed  up  to  them  presently  by  the  witness  of  the 
Spirit  in  their  own  conceits.  Whence  this  came,  judge  you.  I 
told  you  my  judgment  before.  Sure  I  am  that  the  sudden  loose- 
ness of  their  lives,  answering  their  ignorant,  loose,  ungospel-like 
doctrine,  did  certify  me  that  the  Spirit  of  comfort  was  not  their 
comforter;  for  he  is  also  a  Spirit  of  hohness,  and  comforteth  men 
by  the  means  of  a  holy  gospel,  which  hath  precepts  and  threat- 
enings  as  well  as  promises. 

2.  And  as  the  experience  of  the  state  of  believers  assureth  us 
that  few  of  them  attain  to  certainty,  so  experience  of  the  imperfec- 
tion of  their  understanding  shows  us,  that  few  of  them  are  immedi- 
ately capable  of  it.  For  how  few  believers  be  there  that  under- 
stand well  what  is  sound  evidence  and  what  not !  Nay,  how  many 
learned  men  have  taught  them,  that  the  least  unfeigned  desire  of 
grace,  is  the  grace  itself,  as  some  say,  or  at  least  a  certain  evidence 
of  it,  as  others  say  !  Whereas,  alas,  how  many  have  unfeignedly 
desired  many  graces,  and  yet  have  desired  the  glory  and  profits  of 
the  world  so  much  more,  that  they  have  miscarried  and  perished ! 
How  many  have  taught  them,  that  the  least  unfeigned  love  to  God 
or  to  the  brethren,  is  a  certain  mark  of  saving  grace  ;  whereas  many 
a  one  hath  unfeignedly  loved  God  and  the  brethren,  who  yet  have 
loved  house,  land,  credit,  pleasure,  and  life  so  much  more,  that  God 
hath  been  thrust,  as  it  were,  into  a  corner,  and  hath  had  but  the 
world's  leavings.  And  the  poor  saints  have  had  but  little  compas- 
sion or  relief  from  them,  nor  would  be  looked  on  in  times  of  danger 
and  disgrace.  As  Austin  and  the  schoolmen  used  to  say,  "  Wick- 
ed men  do  'uti  Deo,  et  frui  creaturis,'  use  God,  and  enjoy  the 
creatures  ;  godly  men  do  '  frui  Deo,  et  uti  creaturis,'  enjoy  God  and 
use  the  creatures."  The  meaning  is,  both  regenerate  and  ungene- 
rate  have  some  will  or  love,  both  to  God  and  to  the  creature :  but 
the  wicked  do  will  or  love  the  creature  as  their  chief  good,  with  their 
chiefest  love,  and  they  only  love  God  as  a  means  to  help  them  to 
the  creature,  with  a  love  subordinate  to  their  love  to  the  creature: 
whereas  the  godly  do  will  or  love  God  as  their  chief  good,  with 
their  chiefest  love  or  complacency  ;  and  love  the  creature  but  as 
the  means  of  God,  with  an  inferior  love. 

If,  then,  the  nature  of  sincerity  be  so  little  known,  then  the  as- 
surance of  sincerity  cannot  be  very  common.     More  might  be  said 


310        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  ANO  KEEPING. 

to  prove  that  certainty  of  salvation  is  not  common  among  true 
Christians ;  but  that  it  is  labor  in  vain,  as  to  them,  seeing  experi- 
ence and  their  own  ready  confession  doth  witness  it. 

Now,  what  is  the  use  that  I  would  have  you  make  of  this  ?  Why, 
it  is  this.  If  assurance  of  sincerity  and  justification  (much  more 
of  salvation)  be  so  rare  among  true  Christians,  then  you  hane  no 
cause  to  think  that  the  want  of  it  proveth  you  to  be  no  true  Chris- 
tian. You  see,  then,  that  a  man  may  be  in  a  state  of  salvation  with- 
out it;  and  that  it  is  not  justifying  faith,  as  some  have  imagined, 
nor  yet  a  necessary  concomitant  of  that  faith.  You  see  that  you 
were  mistaken  in  thinking  that  you  had  not  the  spirit  of  adoption, 
because  you  had  no  assuring  witness  within  you,  effectively  tes- 
tifying to  you  that  you  are  the  child  of  God.  All  God's  chil- 
dren have  the  Spirit  of  adoption.  (For  because  they  are 
sons,  therefore  hath  God  sent  the  Spirit  of  his  Son  into  their 
hearts,  whereby  they  cry,  '  Abba,  Father  ; '  Gal.  iv.  6.)  But  all 
God's  children  have  not  assurance  of  their  adoption;  therefore  the 
Spirit  of  adoption  doth  not  always  assure  those  of  their  adoption 
in  whom  it  abideth.  It  is  always  a  witness-bearer  of  their  adop- 
tion ;  but  that  is  only  objectively  by  his  graces  and  operations  in 
them,  as  a  land-mark  is  a  witness  whose  land  it  is  where  it  stand- 
eth ;  or  as  your  sheep-mark  witnesseth  which  be  your  sheep  ;  or 
rather  as  a  sensible  soul  witnesseth  a  living  creature,  or  a  rational 
soul  witnesseth  that  we  are  men.  But  efficiently  it  doth  not  always 
witness ;  as  a  land-mark  or  sheep-mark  is  not  always  discerned  ;  and 
a  brute  knows  not  itself  to  be  a  brute ;  and  a  man  is  not  always 
actually  knowing  his  own  humanity,  nor  can  know  it  at  all  in  the 
womb,  in  infancy,  in  distraction,  in  an  epilepsy,  apoplexy,  or  the 
like  disease,  which  deprives  him  of  the  use  of  reason.  Besides,  it  is 
no  doubt  but  the  apostle  had  some  respect  to  the  eminent  gift  of  the 
Spirit,  for  tongues,  prophecies,  miracles,  and  the  like,  which  was 
proper  to  that  age  ;  though  still  as  including  the  Spirit  of  holiness. 

You  see,  then,  that  you  need  not  be  always  in  disquiet  when  you 
want  assurance.  For  else  how  disquiet  a  life  should  most  Chris- 
tians live  I  I  shall  show  you  more  anon,  that  all  a  man's  comforts 
depend  not  so  on  his  assurance,  but  that  he  may  live  a  comfortable 
life  without  it.  Trouble  of  mind  may  be  overcome ;  conscience 
may  be  quieted  ;  tme  peace  obtained  ;  yea,  a  man  may  have  that 
joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  wherein  the  kingdom  of  God  is  said  to  con- 
sist, without  certainty  of  salvation.  (If  there  be  any  passages  in 
ray  Book  of  Rest,  part  iii.,  pressing  to  get  assurance,  which  seem 
contrary  to  this,  I  desire  that  they  may  be  reduced  to  this  sense, 
and  no  otherwise  understood.)  This  shall  be  flirther  opened  anon, 
and  other  grounds  of  comfort  manifested,  besides  assurance. 

Direct.  XV.  Yea,  thus  much  morel  would  here  inform  you  of, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  311 

'  That  many  holy,  watchful  and  obedient  Christians  are  yet  un- 
certain of  their  salvation,  even  then  when  they  are  certain  of  their 
justification  and  sanctification  ;  and  that  because  they  are  uncertain 
of  their  perseverance  and  overcoming  ;  for  a  man's  certainty  of  his 
salvation  can  be  no  stronger  than  is  his  certainty  of  enduring  to 
the  end  and  overcoming.' 

That  you  may  not  misunderstand  me  in  this,  observe,  1.  That 
I  do  not  say  perseverance  is  a  thing  uncertain  in  itself.  2.  Nor 
that  it  is  uncertain  to  all  Christians.  3.  But  that  it  is  uncertain  to 
many,  even  strong  and  self-knowing  Christians.  Divines  use  to 
distinguish  of  the  certainty  of  the  object  and  of  the  subject ;  and 
the  former  is  either  of  the  object  of  God's  knowledge,  or  of  man's. 
I  doubt  not  but  God  knows  certainly  who  shall  be  saved,  which, 
with  his  decree,  doth  cause  that  which  we  call  certainty  of  the  ob- 
ject as  to  man's  understanding ;  but  men  themselves  do  not  always 
know  it. 

If  a  man  have  the  fullest  certainty  in  the  world  that  he  is  God's 
child,  yet  if  he  be  uncertain  whether  he  shall  so  continue  to  the 
end,  it  is  impossible  that  he  should  have  a  certainty  of  his  salva- 
tion ;  for  it  is  he  only  that  endureth  to  the  end  that  shall  be 
saved. 

Now,  that  many  eminent  Christians  of  great  knowledge,  and 
much  zeal  and  obedience,  are  uncertain  of  their  perseverance,  is 
proved  by  two  infallible  arguments.  1 .  By  experience :  if  any 
should  be  so  censorious  as  to  think  that  none  of  all  those  nations 
and  churches  abroad,  that  deny  the  doctrine  of  certain  persever- 
ance of  all  believers,  have  any  strong  Christians  among  them,  yet 
we  have  had  the  knowledge  of  such  at  home.  2.  Besides,  the  dif- 
ficulty of  the  subject  is  a  clear  argument  that  a  strong  Christian  may 
be  uncertain  of  it.  God  hath  made  all  those  points  plain  in  Scrip- 
ture, which  must  be  believed  as  of  necessity  to  salvation ;  but  the 
certainty  of  all  believers'  perseverance,  is  not  a  point  of  flat  neces- 
sity to  salvation  to  be  believed.  Otherwise  it  would  be  a  hard 
matter  to  prove,  that  any  considerable  number  were  ever  saved  till 
of  late  ;  or  are  yet  saved,  but  in  very  few  counti'ies.  It  is  a  point 
that  the  churches  never  did  put  into  their  creed,  where  they  sum- 
med up  those  points  that  they  held  necessary  to  salvation.  There 
are  a  great  number  of  texts  of  Scripture,  which,  seeming  to  intimate 
the  contrary,  do  make  the  point  of  great  difficulty  to'many  of  the 
wisest ;  and  those  texts  that  are  for  it,  are  not  so  express  as  fully  to 
satisfy  them.  Besides,  that  the  examples  of  these  ten  years  last 
past  have  done  more  to  stagger  many  sober,  wise  Christians  in  this 
point,  than  all  the  arguments  that  were  ever  used  by  Papists, 
Amiinians,  or  any  other,  to  see  what  kind  of  men  in  some  places, 
have  fallen,  and  how  far,  as  I  am  unwilling  further  to  mention. 


312  DIRECTIONS    FOK    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

But  I  think  by  this  time  I  have  persuaded  you,  that  a  proper 
certainty  of  our  salvation  is  not  so  common  a  thing  as  some  con- 
troversial doctors,  or  some  self-conceited  professors,  do  take  it  to 
be  ;  and,  therefore,  that  you  must  not  lay  all  your  comfort  on  your 
assurance  of  salvation.  As  for  them  who  are  most  highly  confi- 
dent both  of  the  doctrine  of  the  certain  perseverance  of  every 
believer,  merely  upon  tradition  and  prejudice,  or  else  upon  weak 
grounds,  which  will  not' bear  them  out  in  their  confidence  ;  and  are 
as  confident  of  their  own  salvation  on  as  slender  grounds,  having 
never  well  understood  the  nature  of  saving  grace,  sincerity,  exam- 
ination, nor  assurance  ;  nor  understood  the  causes  of  doubting, 
which  else  might  have  shaken  them  ;  I  will  not  call  their  greatest 
confidence  by  the  name  of  assurance  or  certainty  of  salvation, 
though  it  be  accompanied  with  never  so  great  boastings,  or  pre- 
tenses, or  expressions  of  the  highest  joys.  And  for  yourself,  I 
advise  you  first  use  those  comforts  which  those  may  have  who 
come  short  of  assurance. 

Direct.  XVI.  The  next  thing  which  I  would  have  you  leani, 
is  this,  'That  there  are  several  grounds  of  the  great  probability  of 
our  salvation,  besides  the  general  grounds  mentioned  in  the  begin- 
ning :  and  by  the  knowledge  of  these,  without  any  further  assur- 
ance, a  Christian  may  live  in  much  peace  and  comfort,  and  in  de- 
lightful, desirous  thoughts  of  the  glory  to  come.  And  therefore 
the  next  work  which  you  have  to  do,  is  to  discover  those  proba- 
bilities of  your  sincerity  and  your  salvation,  and  then  to  receive 
the  peace  and  comfort  which  they  may  afford  you,  before  you  can 
expect  assurance  in  itself.' 

I  shall  here  open  to  you  the  several  parts  of  this  proposition  and 
direction  distinctly.  1.  1  told  you  in  the  beginning  of  the  four 
grounds  of  probability  which  all  may  have  in  general ;  from,  1 . 
The  nature  of  God.  2.  And  of  the  Mediator  and  his  office.  3. 
And  the  universal  sufficiency  of  Christ's  satisfaction.  4.  And  the 
general  tenor  of  the  promise,  and  offer  of  pardon  and  salvation. 
Now,  I  add,  that  besides  all  these,  there  are  many  grounds  of  strong 
probability  which  you  may  have  of  your  own  sincerity,  and  so  of 
your  particular  interest  in  Christ  and  salvation,  when  you  cannot 
reach  to  a  certainty. 

1.  Some  kind  of  probability  you  may  gather  by  comparing  your- 
self with  others.  Though  this  way  be  but  delusory  to  unregener- 
ate  men,  whose  confidence  is  plainly  contradicted  by  the  Scriptures, 
yet  may  it  be  lawful  and  useful  to  an  humble  soul  that  is  willing 
to  obey  and  wait  on  God :  I  mean  to  consider,  that  if  such  as  you 
should  perish,  how  few  people  would  God  have  in  the  world. 
Consider,  first,  in  how  narrow  a  compass  the  church  was  confined 
before  Christ's  coming  in  the  flesh  ;  how  carnal  and  corrupt  even 


SPIRITUAL,    PEACE    AND    COMPORT.  313 

that  visible  church  then  was  ;  and  even  at  this  day,  the  most  learn- 
ed do  compute,  tliat  if  you  divide  the  world  into  thirty  parts,  nine- 
teen of  them  are  heathenish  idolaters,  six  of  them  are  Mahome- 
tans, and  only  five  of  them  are  Christians.  And  of  these  five  that 
are  Christians,  how  great  a  part  are  of  the  Ethiopian,  Greek  and 
Popish  churches  !  so  ignorant,  rude,  and  superstitious,  and  erro- 
neous, that  salvation  cannot  be  imagined  to  be  near  so  easy  or  ordi- 
nary with  them  as  with  us :  and  of  the  reformed  churches,  com- 
monly called  Protestants,  how  small  is  the  number !  And  even 
among  these,  what  a  number  are  grossly  ignorant  and  profane ! 
And  of  those  that  profess  more  knowledge  and  zeal,  how  many  are 
grossly  erroneous,  schismatical  and  scandalous !  How  exceeding 
small  a  number  is  left,  then,  that  are  such  as  you  !  I  know  this  is 
no  assuring  argument,  but  I  know,  withal,  that  Christ  died  not  in 
vain,  but  he  will  see  the  fmit  of  his  suifering's  to  the  satisfaction 
of  his  soul ;  and  the  God  of  mercy,  who  is  a  lover  of  mankind, 
will  have  a  multitude  inimmerable  of  his  saved  ones  in  the  earth. 

2.  But  your  strongest  probabilities  are  from  the  consideration 
of  the  work  of  God  upon  your  souls,  and  the  present  frame  and 
inclination  of  your  soul  to  God.  You  may  know  that  you  have 
workings  above  nature  in  you  ;  and  that  they  have  been  kept  alive 
and  carried  on  these  many  years  against  all  opposition  of  the  flesh 
and  the  world  ;  it  hath  not  been  a  mere  flash  of  conviction  which 
hath  been  extinguished  by  sensuality,  and  left  you  in  the  darkness 
of  security  and  profaneness,  as  others  are.  You  dare  not  give  up 
your  hopes  of  heaven  for  all  the  world.  You  would  not  part  vnih 
Christ,  and  say,  '  Let  him  go,'  for  all  the  pleasures  of  sin,  or 
treasures  of  the  earth.  If  you  had  (as  you  have)  an  ofier  of 
God,  Christ,  grace,  and  glory  on  one  side,  and  worldly  prosperity 
in  sin  on  the  other  side,  you  would  choose  God,  and  let  go  the 
other.  You  dare  not,  you  would  not  give  over  praying,  hearing, 
reading,  and  Christian  company,  and  give  up  yourself  to  worldly, 
fleshly  pleasures ;  yet  you  are  not  assured  of  salvation,  because 
you  find  not  that  delight  and  life  in  duty,  and  that  witness  of  the 
Spirit,  and  that  cormnunion  with  God,  nor  that  tenderness  of  heart, 
as  you  desire.  It  is  well  that  you  desire  them  ;  but  though  you 
be  not  certain  of  salvation,  do  you  not  see  a  great  likelihood,  a 
probability  in  all  this  ?  Is  not  your  heart  raised  to  a  hope,  that 
yet  God  is  merciful  to  you,  and  means  you  good  ?  Doubtless,  this 
you  might  easily  discern. 

The  second  thing  that  I  am  to  show  you  is,  that  there  may 
much  spiritual  comfort  and  peace  of  conscience  be  enjoyed  with- 
out any  certainty  of  salvation,  even  upon  these  fore-mentioned 
probabihties.  Which  1  prove  thus:  1.  No  doubt  but  Adam  in 
innocency  had  peace  of  conscience,  and  comfort,  and  communion 
VOL.  I.  40 


314  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

with  God,  and  yet  he  had  no  assurance  of  salvation  ;  I  mean  either 
of  continuing  in  paradise,  or  being  translated  to  glory.  For  if 
he  had,  either  he  was  sure  to  persevere  in  innocency,  and  so  to  be 
glorified,  (but  that  was  not  true,)  or  else  he  must  foreknow  both  that 
he  should  fall  and  be  raised  again,  and  saved  by  Christ.  But  this 
he  knew  not  at  all.  2.  Experience  tells  us  that  the  greatest  part 
of  Christians  on  earth  do  enjoy  that  peace  and  comfort  which  they 
have,  without  any  certainty  of  their  salvation.  3.  The  nature  of 
the  thing  telleth  us,  that  a  likelihood  of  so  great  a  mercy  as  ever- 
lasting glory,  must  needs  be  a  ground  of  great  comfort.  If  a  poor 
condemned  prisoner  do  but  hear  that  there  is  hopes  of  a  pardon, 
especially  if  very  probable,  it  will  glad  his  heart.  Indeed,  if  an 
angel  from  heaven  were  brought  into  this  state,  it  would  be  sad 
to  him  ;  but  if  a  devil  or  condemned  sinner  have  such  hope,  it 
must  needs  be  glad  news  to  them.  The  devils  have  it  not,  but 
we  have. 

Let  me  next,  therefore,  entreat  you  to  take  the  comfort  of  your 
probabilities  of  grace  and  salvation.  Your  horse  or  dog  know  not 
how  you  will  use  them,  certainly  ;  yet  will  they  lovingly  follow  you, 
and  put  their  heads  to  your  hand,  and  tmst  you  with  their  lives 
without  fear,  and  love  to  be  in  your  company,  because  they  have 
found  you  kind  to  them,  and  have  tried  that  you  do  them  no  hurt, 
but  good ;  yea,  though  you  do  strike  them  sometimes,  yet  they 
find  that  they  have  their  food  from  you,  and  your  favor  doth  sus- 
tain them.  Yea,  your  little  children  have  no  certainty  how  you 
will  use  them,  and  yet,  finding  that  you  have  always  used  them 
kindly,  and  expressed  love  to  them,  though  you  whip  them  some- 
times, yet  are  glad  of  your  company,  and  desire  to  be  in  your  lap, 
and  can  trust  themselves  in  your  hands,  without  tormenting  them- 
selves with  such  doubts  as  these,  '  I  am  uncertain  how  my  mother 
will  use  me,  whether  she  will  wound  me,  or  kill  me,  or  turn  me  out 
of  doors,  and  let  me  perish.'  Nature  persuades  us  not  to  be  too 
distrustful  of  those  that  have  always  befriended  us,  and  especially 
whose  nature  is  merciful  and  compassionate ;  nor  to  be  too  suspi- 
cious of  evil  from  them  that  have  always  done  us  good.  Every 
man  knows  that  the  good  will  do  good,  and  the  evil  will  do  you 
evil  ;  and  accordingly  we  expect  that  they  should  do  to  us.  Nat- 
urally, we  all  fear  a  toad,  a  serpent,  an  adder,  a  mad  dog,  a  wicked 
man,  a  madman,  a  cruel,  blood-thirsty  tyrant,  and  the  devil.  But 
no  one  fears  a  dove,  a  lamb,  a  good  man,  a  merciful,  compassionate 
governor,  except  only  the  rebels  or  notorious  offenders  that  know 
he  is  bound  in  justice  to  destroy  or  punish  them.  And  none  should 
fear  distrustfully  the  wrath  of  a  gracious  God,  but  they  who  will 
not  submit  to  his  mercy,  and  will  not  have  Christ  to  reign  over 
them,  and  therefore  may  know  that  he  is  bound  in  justice,  if  they 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    A\D    COM^-ORT.  315 

come  not  in,  to  destroy  them.  But  for  yon  that  would  be  obedi- 
ent and  reformed,  and  are  troubled  that  you  are  no  better,  and 
beg  of  God  to  make  you  better,  and  have  no  sin  but  what  you 
would  be  glad  to  be  rid  of,  may  not  you,  at  least,  see  a  strong 
probability  that  it  shall  go  well  with  you  ?  O  make  use,  there- 
fore, of  this  probability ;  and  if  you  have  but  hopes  that  God  will 
do  you  good,  rejoice  in  those  hopes  till  you  can  come  to  rejoice  in 
assurance. 

And  here  let  me  tell  you,  that  probabilities  are  of  divers  degrees, 
according  to  their  divers  grounds.  Where  nien  have  but  little 
probability  of  their  sincerity,  and  a  greater  probability  that  they 
are  not  sincere  in  the  faith,  these  men  may  be  somewhat  borne  up, 
but  it  behoves  them  presently  to  search  in  fear,  and  to  amend  that 
which  is  the  cause  of  their  fear.  Those  that  have  more  probability 
of  the  sincerity  of  their  hearts  than  of  the  contrary,  may  well  have 
more  peace  than  trouble  of  mind.  Those  that  have  yet  a  higher 
degree  of  probability,  may  live  in  more  joy,  and  so  according  to 
the  degree  of  probability  may  their  comforts  still  arise. 

And  observe  also,  that  it  is  but  the  highest  degree  of  this  prob- 
ability here  which  we  call  a  certainty  ;  for  it  is  a  moral  certainty, 
and  not  that  which  is  called  a  certainty  of  divine  faith,  nor  that 
which  is  called  a  certainty  of  evidence  in  the  strictest  sense,  though 
yet  evidence  there  is  for  it.  But  it  is  the  same  evidences  materi- 
ally, which  are  the  ground  of  probability  and  of  certainty ;  only 
sometimes  they  differ  gradually,  (one  having  more  grace,  and  an- 
other less,)  and  sometimes  not  so  neither  ;  for  he  that  hath  more 
grace,  may  discern  but  a  probability  in  it,  (through  some  other 
defect,)  no  more  than  he  that  hath  less.  But  when  one  man  dis- 
cerns his  graces  and  sincerity  but  darkly,  he  hath  but  a  probability 
of  salvation  manifested  by  them ;  and  when  another  discerneth 
them  more  clearly,  he  hath  a  stronger  probability ;  and  he  that 
discerneth  them  most  clearly  (if  other  necessaries  concur)  hath 
that  which  we  call  a  certainty. 

Now,  I  am  persuaded  that  you  frequently  see  a  strong  probability 
of  your  sincerity  ;  and  may  not  that  be  a  very  great  stay  and  com- 
fort to  your  soul  ?  Nay,  may  it  not  draw  out  your  heart  in  love, 
delight  and  thankfulness  ?  Suppose  that  your  name  were  written 
in  a  piece  of  paper,  and  put  among  a  hundred,  or  fifty,  or  but 
twenty  other  like  papers  into  a  lottery,  and  you  <vere  certain  that 
you  should  be  the  owner  of  this  whole  land,  except  your  name 
were  drawn  the  first  time,  and  if  it  were  drawn  you  should  die, 
would  your  joy  or  your  sorrow  for  this  be  the  greater  ?  Nay,  if  it 
were  but  ten  to  one,  or  but  two  to  one  odds  on  your  side,  it  would 
keep  you  from  drooping  and  discouragement ;  and  why  should  it 
not  do  so  in  the  present  case  ? 


316  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

Direct.  XVII.  My  next  advice  to  you  is  this :  '  For  the  strength- 
ening your  apprehensions  of  the  probabiHty  of  your  salvation, 
gather  up  and  improve  all  your  choicest  experiences  of  God's 
good  will  and  mercy  to  you ;  and  observe  also  the  experiments  of 
others  in  the  same  kind.' 

We  do  God  and  ourselves  a  great  deal  of  wrong  by  forgetting, 
neglecting,  and  not  improving  our  experiences.  How  doth  God 
charge  it  on  the  Israelites,  especially  in  the  wilderness,  that  they 
forgot  the  works  of  God,  by  which  he  had  so  often  manifested  his 
power  and  goodness  !  Psalm  Ixxviii.  cvii.  See  cv.  cvi.  When  God 
had  by  one  miracle  silenced  their  unbelief,  they  had  forgotten  it  in 
the  next  distress.  It  was  a  sign  the  disciples'  hearts  were  hardened, 
when  they  forgot  the  miracles  of  the  loaves,  and  presently  after  were 
distrustful  and  afraid  ;  Mark  vi.  5-2.  God  doth  not  give  us  his  mer- 
cies only  for  the  present  use,  but  for  the  future  ;  nor  only  for  the 
body,  but  for  the  soul.  I  would  this  truth  were  well  learned  by  be- 
lievers. You  are  in  sickness,  and  troubles,  and  dangers,  and  pinch- 
ing straits,  in  fears  and  angviish  of  mind :  in  this  case  you  cry  to 
God  for  help,  and  he  doth  in  such  a  manner  deliver  you  as  silenc- 
eth  your  distrust,  and  convinceth  you  of  his  love ;  at  least,  of  bis 
readiness  to  do  you  good.  What  a  wrong  is  it  now  to  God  and 
yourself,  to  forget  this  presently,  and  in  the  next  temptation  to  re- 
ceive no  strengthening  by  the  consideration  of  it !  Doth  God  so 
much  regard  this  dirty  flesh,  that  he  should  do  all  this  merely  for 
its  ease  and  relief?  No,  he  doth  it  to  kill  your  unbelief,  and  con- 
vince you  of  his  special  providence,  his  care  of  you,  and  love  to 
you,  and  power  to  help  you,  and  to  breed  in  you  more  loving, 
honorable  and  thankful  thoughts  of  him.  Lose  this  benefit,  and 
you  lose  all.  You  may  thus  use  one  and  the  same  mercy  an 
hundred  times  ;  though  it  be  gone  as  to  the  body,  it  is  still  fresh  in 
a  believing,  thankful,  careful  soul.  You  may  make  as  good  use 
of  it  at  your  very  death,  as  the  first  hour.  But  O,  the  sad  forget- 
fulness,  mutability  and  unbelief  of  these  hearts  of  ours  !  What  a 
number  of  these  choice  experiences  do  we  all  receive  !  When  we 
forget  one,  God  giveth  another,  and  we  forget  that  too.  When 
unbelief  doth  blasphemously  suggest  to  us,  Such  a  thing  may  come 
once  or  twice  by  chance,  God  addeth  one  experience  to  another, 
till  it  even  shame  us  out  of  our  unbelief,  as  Christ  shamed  Thomas, 
and  we  cry  out,  "  My  Lord  and  my  God."  Hath  it  not  been  thus 
oft  with  you  ?  Have  not  mercies  come  so  seasonably,  so  unex- 
pectedly, either  by  small  means,  or  the  means  themselves  unex- 
pectedly raised  up,  without  your  designing  or  effecting,  and  plain- 
ly in  answer  to  prayers,  that  they  have  brought  conviction  along  with 
them,  and  you  have  seen  the  name  of  God  engraven  on  them  ? 
Sure  it  is  so,  with  us,  when,  tln-nugh  our  sinful  negligence,  we  are 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  317 

hardly  drawn  to  open  our  eyes,  and  see  what  God  is  doing.  Much 
more  might  we  have  seen,  if  we  had  but  observed  the  workings  of 
Providence  for  us ;  especially  they  that  are  in  an  afflicted  state, 
and  have  more  sensibly  daily  use  for  God,  and  are  awakened  to 
seek  him,  and  regard  his  dealings.  I  know  a  mercy  to  the  body  is 
no  certain  evidence  of  God's  love  to  the  soul.  But  yet  from  such 
experiences  a  Christian  may  have  very  strong  probabilities.  When 
we  find  God  hearing  prayers,  it  is  a  hopeful  sign  that  we  have  some 
interest  in  him.  We  may  say  as  Manoah's  wife  said  to  him,  "  If  the 
Lord  had  meant  to  destroy  us,  he  would  not  have  received  a  sacri- 
fice at  our  hands,  nor  have  done  all  this  for  us  ;  "  Judges  xiii.  23. 
To  have  God  so  near  to  us  in  all  that  we  call  upon  him  for,  and  so 
ready  to  reliete  us,  as  if  he  could  not  deny  an  earnest  prayer,  and 
could  not  endure  to  stop  his  ears  against  our  cries  and  groans,  these 
are  hopeful  signs  that  he  meaneth  us  good.  I  know  special  grace 
is  the  only  certain  evidence  of  special  love :  but  yet  these  kind  of 
experiences  are  many  times  more  effectual  to  refresh  a  drooping, 
doubting  soul,  than  the  first  evidences  ;  for  evidences  may  be  un- 
seen, and  require  a  great  deal  of  holy  skill  and  diligence  to  try 
them,  which  few  have  ;  but  these  experiences  are  near  us,  even  in 
our  bodies,  and  show  themselves;  they  make  all  our  bones  say, 
"Lord,  who  is  like  unto  thee?"  And  it  is  a  great  advantage  to 
liave  the  help  of  sense  itself  for  our  consolation.  I  hope  you  yet 
remember  the  choice,  particular  providences,  by  which  God  hath 
manifested  to  you  his  goodness,  even  from  your  youth  till  now  ; 
especially  his  frequent  answering  of  your  prayers  !  Methinks  these 
should  do  something  to  the  dispelling  of  those  black,  distrustful 
thoughts  of  God.  I  could  wish  you  would  write  them  down,  and 
oft  review  them  :  and  when  temptations  next  come,  remember  with 
David,  who  helped  you  against  the  lion  and  the  bear,  and,  there- 
fore, fear  not  the  uncircumcised  Philistine. 

2.  And  you  may  make  great  use  also  of  the  experiences  of 
others.  Is  it  not  a  great  satisfaction  to  hear  twenty,  or  forty,  or  an 
hundred  Christians,  of  the  most  godly  lives,  to  make  the  very  same 
complaints  as  you  do  yourself?  The  very  same  complaints  have  1 
heard  from  as  many.  By  this  you  may  see  your  case  is  not  singu- 
lar, but  the  ordinary  case  of  the  tcnderest  consciences,  and  of  many 
that  walk  uprightly  with  God.  And  also  is  it  not  a  great  help  to 
you,  to  hear  other  Christians  tell  how  they  have  come  into  those 
troubles,  and  how  they  have  got  out  of  them  ?  What  hurt  them  ? 
And  what  helped  them?  And  how  God  dealt  with  them,  while 
they  lay  under  them  ?  How  desirous  are  diseased  persons  to  talk 
witli  others  that  have  had  the  same  disease  !  And  to  hear  them 
tell  how  it  took  them,  and  how  it  held  them,  and  especially  what 
cured  them  !     Besides,  it  will  give  you   much  stronger   hopes  of 


318        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

cure  and  recovery  to  peace  of  conscience,  when  you  hear  of  so 

many  that  have  been  cured  of  the  same  disease.  Moreover,  is  it 
not  a  reviving  thing  to  hear  Christians  open  the  goodness  of  the 
Lord?  And  that  in  particular,  as  upon  experience  they  have 
found  him  to  their  own  souls  ?  To  hear  them  tell  you  of  such 
notable  discoveries  of  God's  special  providence  and  care  of  his  peo- 
ple, as  may  repel  all  temptations  to  atheism  and  unbelief?  To 
hear  them  give  you  their  frequent  and  full  experiences  of  God's 
hearing  and  answering  their  prayers,  and  helping  them  in  their  dis- 
tresses? Though  the  carnal  part  of  the  mercy  were  only  theirs, 
yet  by  improvement,  the  spiritual  part  may  be  yours :  you  may 
have  your  faith,  and  love,  and  joy,  confirmed  by  the  experience 
of  David,  Job,  Paul,  which  are  past  so  long  ago  ;  and  by  the  ex- 
periences of  all  your  godly  acquaintance,  as  if  they  were  your  own. 
This  is  the  benefit  of  the  unity  of  the  church ;  the  blessings  of  one 
member  of  the  body  are  blessings  to  the  rest ;  and  if  one  rejoice,  the 
rest  may  rejoice  with  them,  not  only  for  their  sakes,  but  also  for 
their  own.  Such  as  God  is  to  the  rest  of  his  children,  such  is  he 
and  will  be  to  you.  He  is  as  ready  to  pity  you  as  them,  and  to  hear 
your  complaints  and  moans  as  theirs.  And  lest  we  should  think 
that  none  of  them  were  so  bad  as  we,  he  hath  left  us  the  examples 
of  his  mercies  to  worse  than  ever  we  were.  You  never  were  guilty 
of  witchcraft  and  open  idolatry,  as  Manasses  was,  and  that  for  a 
long  time,  and  drawing  the  whole  nation,  and  chief  part  of  the  visi- 
ble church  on  earth,  into  idolatry  with  him.  You  never  had  your 
hand  in  the  blood  of  a  saint,  and  even  of  the  firstmartyr,  (Stephen,) 
as  Paul  had.  You  never  hunted  after  the  blood  of  the  saints,  and 
persecuted  them  from  city  to  city,  as  he  did ;  and  yet  God  did  not 
only  forgive  him,  but  was  found  of  him  when  he  never  sought 
him,  yea,  when  he  was  persecuting  him  in  his  members,  and  kick- 
ing against  the  pricks  ;  yea,  and  made  him  a  chosen  vessel  to  bear 
about  his  name,  and  a  noble  instrument  of  the  propagation  of  his 
gospel,  as  if  he  had  never  been  guilty  of  any  such  crimes,  that  he 
might  be  an  encouraging  example  to  the  unworthiest  sinners,  and 
in  him  might  appear  to  the  riches  of  his  mercy  ;  1  Tim.  iii.  13.  16. 
See  also  Titus  iii.  3 — 7.  Is  there  no  ground  of  comfort  in  these 
examples  of  the  saints?  The  same  we  may  say  of  the  experi- 
ences of  God's  people  still ;  and  doubtless  it  were  well  if  experiment- 
al Christians  did  more  fully  and  frequently  open  to  one  another 
their  experiences ;  it  were  the  way  to  make  private  particular  mer- 
cies to  be  more  public  and  common  mercies ;  and  to  give  others  a 
part  in  our  blessings,  without  any  diminution  of  them  to  ourselves. 
Not  that  I  would  have  this  openly  and  rashly  done,  (by  those  who, 
through  their  disability  to  express  their  minds,  do  make  the  works 
and  language  of  the  Spirit  seem  ridiculous  to  carnal  ears,)  as  I  per- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  319 

ceive  some  in  a  very  formality  would  have  it,  (as  if  it  must  be  one 
of  their  church  customs,  to  satisfy  the  society  of  the  fitness  of  each 
member  before  they  will  receive  them  ;)  but  I  would  have  Christians 
that  are  fit  to  express  their  minds,  to  do  it  in  season  and  with  wis- 
dom ;  especially  those  to  whom  God  hath  given  any  more  eminent 
and  notable  experiments,  which  may  be  of  public  use.  Doubtless, 
God  hath  lost  very  much  of  the  honor  due  to  his  name,  and  poor 
Christians  much  of  the  benefit  which  they  might  have  received, 
(and  may  challenge  by  the  mutual  interest  of  fellow  members,)  for 
want  of  the  public  communication  of  the  extraordinary  and  more 
notable  experiences  of  some  men.  Those  that  write  the  lives  of 
the  holiest  men  when  they  are  dead,  can  give  you  but  the  outside 
and  carcass  of  their  memorials ;  the  most  observable  passages  are 
usually  secret,  known  only  to  God  and  their  own  souls,  which 
none  but  themselves  are  able  to  communicate.  For  my  own  part, 
I  do  soberly  and  seriously  profess  to  you,  that  the  experiences  I 
have  had  of  God's  special  providences,  and  fatherly  care,  and 
specially  of  his  hearing  prayers,  have  been  so  strange,  and  great, 
and  exceeding  numerous,  that  they  have  done  very  much  to  the 
quieting  of  my  spirit,  and  the  persuading  of  my  soul  of  God's  love 
to  me,  and  the  silencing  and  shaming  of  my  unbelieving  heart,  and 
especially  for  the  conquering  of  all  temptations  that  lead  to  atheism 
or  infidelity,  to  the  denying  of  special  providence,  or  of  the  verity 
of  the  gospel,  or  of  the  necessity  of  holy  prayer  and  worshipping 
of  God.  Yea,  those  passages  that  in  the  bulk  of  the  thing  seem 
to  have  no  great  matter  in  them,  yet  have  come  at  such  seasons,  in 
such  a  manner,  in  evident  answer  to  prayers,  that  they  have  done 
much  to  my  confirmation.  O  happy  afflictions  and  distresses'. 
Sufferings  and  danger  force  us  to  pray,  and  force  the  cold  and  cus- 
tomary petitioner  to  seriousness  and  importunity.  Importunate 
prayers  bring  evident  returns  ;  such  returns  give  us  sensible  expe- 
riences ;  such  experiences  raise  faith,  love  and  thankfulness,  kill 
unbelief  and  atheism,  and  encourage  the  soul,  in  all  distresses,  go 
the  same  way  as  when  it  sped  so  well.  I  often  pity  the  poor 
seduced  infidels  of  this  age,  that  deny  Scripture  and  Christ  himself, 
and  doubt  of  the  usefulness  of  prayer  and  holy  worship ;  and  I 
wish  that  they  had  but  the  experiences  that  I  have  had.  O  how 
much  more  might  it  do  than  all  their  studies  and  disputes !  Truly 
I  have  once  or  twice  had  motions  in  my  mind,  to  have  publicly  and 
freely  communicated  my  experiences  in  a  relation  of  the  more 
observable  passages  of  my  life ;  but  I  found  that  I  was  not  able  to 
do  it  to  God's  praise,  as  was  meet,  without  a  show  of  ostentation 
or  vanity,  and  therefore  1  forbore. 

Direct.  XVIII.  Next,  that  you  may  yet  further  understand  the 
true  nature  of  assurance,  faith,  doubting  and  desperation,  I  would 


^20  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

hav^e  you  observe  this,  '  That  God  doth  not  command  every  man, 
nor  properly  any  man,  ordinarily,  by  his  word,  to  believe  that  his 
sins  are  forgiven,  and  himself  is  justified,  adopted,  and  shall  be 
saved.  But  he  hath  prescribed  a  way  by  which  they  may  attain 
to  assurance  of  these,  in  which  way  it  is  men's  duty  to  seek  it ;  so 
that  our  assurance  is  not  properly  that  which  is  called  a  certainty 
of  behef.' 

I  have  said  enough  for  the  proof  of  this  proposition  in  the  third 
part  of  my  Book  of  Kest,  chap,  ii.,  whither  I  must  refer  you.  But 
there  is  more  to  be  said  yet  for  the  application  of  it.  But  first  I 
must  briefly  tell  you  the  meaning  of  the  words.  1.  God  command- 
eth  us  all  to  believe  (wicked  and  godly)  that  our  sins  are  made 
pardonable  by  the  sufficient  satisfaction  of  Christ  for  them ;  and 
that  God  is  very  merciful  and  ready  to  forgive ;  and  that  he  hath 
conditionally  forgiven  us  all  in  the  new  covenant,  raakmg  a  deed 
of  gift  of  Christ,  and  pardon,  and  life  in  him,  to  all,  on  condition 
they  beheve  in  him,  and  accept  what  is  given.  2.  But  no  man 
is  comjnanded  to  believe  that  he  is  actually  forgiven.  3.  There- 
fore I  say  our  assurance  is  not  strictly  to  be  called  belief,  or  a  cer- 
tainty of  belief;  for  it  is  only  our  certain  belief  of  those  things 
which  we  take  on  the  mere  credit  of  the  witnesser  or  revealer,.. 
which  we  call  certainty  of  faith.  Indeed,  we  commonly  in  Eng- 
lish use  the  word  '  belief,'  to  express  any  confident,  but  uncertain, 
opinion  or  persuasion ;  and  if  any  will  so  take  it,  then  I  deny  not 
but  our  assurance  is  a  belief.  But  it  is  commonly  taken  by  divines 
for  an  assent  to  any  thing  on  the  credit  of  the  word  of  the  revealer, 
and  so  is  distinguished  both  from  the  sensible  apprehension  of  things, 
and  from  principles  that  are  known  by  the  mere  light  and  help  of 
nature ;  and  from  the  knowledge  of  conclusions,  which  by  reason- 
ing we  gather  from  those  principles.  Though  yet  one  and  the 
same  thing  may  be  knowni,  as  revealed  in  nature,  and  believed  as 
revealed  immediately  or  supernaturally  ;  and  so  we  both  know  and 
believe  that  there  is  one  only  God,  who  made  and  preserveth  all 
things.  4.  But  our  assurance  is  an  act  of  knowledge,  participating 
of  faith  and  internal  sense  or  knowledge  reflect.  For  divine  faith 
saith,  "  He  that  believeth  is  justified,  and  shall  be  saved."  In- 
ternal sense  and  knowledge  of  ourselves  saith,  '  But  I  believe.' 
Reason  or  discursive  knowledge  saith,  '  Therefore  I  am  justified, 
and  shall  be  saved.' 

Only  I  must  advise  you,  that  you  be  not  troubled  when  you 
meet  with  that  which  is  contrary  to  this  in  any  great  divines ;  for 
it  is  only  our  fonner  divines,  whose  judgments  were  partly  hurt  by 
hot  disputations  with  the  Papists  herein,  and  partly  not  come  to 
that  maturity  as  others  since  then  have  had  opportunity  to  do. 
And  therefore  in  their  expositions  of  the  creed,  and  such  like  pas- 


SPIRITUAL    PKACK    AND    COMFORT.  321 

sages  In  the  text,  they  eagerly  insist  on  it,  that  when  we  say,  '^  We 
beheve  the  forgiveness  of  sin,  and  life  everlasting,'  every  man 'is  to 
profess  that  he  believeth  that  his  own  sins  are  forgiven,  and  he 
shall  have  life  everlasting  himself.  But  our  later  divines,  and  es- 
pecially the  English,  and  most  especially  those  that  deal  most  in 
practical,  do  see  the  mistake,  and  lay  down  the  same  doctrine 
which  I  teach  you  here;  God  bids  us  not  believe,  as  froin  hiin, 
more  than  he  hath  revealed.  But  only  one  of  the  propositions  is 
revealed  by  God's  testimony,  "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved." 
But  it  is  no  where-  written  that  you  do  believe,  nor  that  you  shall 
be  saved ;  nor  any  thing  equivalent.  And  therefore  you  are  not 
commanded  to  believe  either  of  these.  How  the  Spirit  revealeth 
these,  I  have  fully  told  you  already.  In  our  creed  therefore  we  do 
profess  to  believe  remission  of  sins  to  be  purchased.by  Clirist's  death, 
and  in  his  power  to  give,  and  given  in  his  gospel  to  all,  on  condi- 
tion of  believing  in  Christ  himself  for  remission  ;  but  not  to  beheve 
that  our  own  sins  are  actually  and  fully  pardoned. 

My  end  .in  telling  you  this  again  (which  I  have  told  you  else- 
where) is  this,  That  you  may  not  think  (as  I  find  abundance  of 
poor  troubled  souls  do)  that  faith  (much  less  justifying  faith)  is  a 
believing  that  you  have  true  grace,  and  sliall  be  saved-;  and  so  fall 
a  condemning  yourself  unjustly  every  time  that  you  doubt  of  your 
own  sincerity,  and  think  that  so  much  as  you  doubt  of  this,  so  much 
unbelief  you  have  ;  and  so  many  poor  souls  complain  that  they  have 
no  faith,  or  but  httle,  and  that  they  cannot  believe,  because  they 
believe  not  their  own  faith  to  be  sincere  ;  and  when  they  wholly 
judge  themselves  unsanctified,  then  they  call  that  desperation, 
which  they  think  to  be  a  sin  inconsistent  with  true  grace.  These  are 
dangerous  errors,  all  arising  from  that  one  error  which  the  heat  of 
contention  did  carry  some  good  men  to,  that  faith  is  a  belief  that 
our  sins  are  forgiven  by  Christ.  Indeed,  all  men  are  bound  to  ap- 
ply Christ  and  tlie  promise  to  themselves.  But  that  application 
consisteth  in  a  belief  that  this  promise  is  true,  as  belonging  to  all, 
and  so  to  me,  and  then  in  acceptance  of  Chrisr  and  his  benefits  as 
an  offered  gift ;  and  after  this,  in  trusting  on  him  for  the  full  per- 
formance of  this  promise.  Hence  therefore  you  may  best  see  what 
unbelief  and  desperation  ard,  and  how  far  men  may  charge  them- 
selves with  them.  When  you  doubt  whether  the  promise  be  true, 
or  when  you  refuse  to  accept  Christ  and  his  benefits  offered  in  it, 
and  consequently  to  trust  him  as  one  that  is  able  and  willing  to 
save  you,  if  you  do  assent  to  his  truth,  and  accept  him,  this  is  un- 
belief. But  if  you  do  believe  the  truth  of  the  gospel,  and  are 
heartily  willing  to  accept  Christ  as  offered  in  it,  and  only  doubt 
whether  your  belief  and  acceptance  of  him  be  sincere,  and  so 
whether  you  shall  be  saved,  this  is  not  unbelief,  but  ignorance  of 

VOL.    I.  41 


322 


DIKECTI0.V5    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 


your  own  sincerity  and  its  consequents.  Nay,  and  though  that 
affiance  be  wanting,  which  is  a  part  of  faith,  yet  it  is  but  an  hinder- 
ing of  the  exercise  of  it,  for  want  of  a  necessary  concomitant  con- 
dition ;  for  the  grace  of  affiance  is  in  the  habit,  and  virtually  is 
liiere,  so  that  it  is  not  formally  distrust  or  unbelief  any  more  than 
your  not  trusting  God  in  your  sleep  is  distrust.  If  a  friend  do  prom- 
ise to  give  you  an  hundred  pounds,  on  condition  that  you  thankfully 
accept  it ;  if  you  now  do  believe  him,  and  do  thankfully  accept  it ; 
but  yet  through  some  vain  scruple  shall  think,  my  thankfulness  is 
so  small,  that  it  is  not  sincere,  and  therefore  I  doubt  I  do  not  per- 
form his  condition,  and  so  shall  never  have  the  gift ;  in  this  case, 
now,  you  do  believe  your  friend,  and  you  do  not  distrust  him  prop- 
erly ;  but  you  distrust  yourself,  that  you  perform  not  the  condition ; 
and  this  hinderetii  the  exercise  of  that  confidence  or  affiance  in 
your  friend  which  is  habitually  and  virtually  in  you.  Just  so  is  it 
in  our  present  case. 

The  same  may  be  said  of  desperation,  which  is  a  privation  of 
hope ;  when  we  have  believed  the  truth  of  the  gospel,  and  accept- 
ed Christ  offered,  we  are  then  bound  to  hope  that  God  will  give 
us  the  benefits  promised :  so  hope  is  nothing  but  a  desirous  expec- 
tation of  the  good  so  promised  and  believed.  Now,  if  you  begirv  to 
distrust  whether  God  will  make  good  his  promise  or  no,  either 
thinking  that  it  is  not  true,  or  he  is  not  able,  or  hath  changed  his 
mind  since  the  making  of  it,  and  on  these  grounds  you  let  go  your 
hopes,  this  is  despair.  If,  because  that  Christ  seems  to  delay  his 
coming,  we  should  say,  I  have  waited  in  hope  till  now,  but  now  I 
am  out  of  hope  that  ever  Christ  will  come  to  judge  the  world,  and 
glorify  believers,  I  will  expect  it  no  longer ;  this  is  despair.  And 
it  hath  its  several  degrees  more  or  less  as  unbelief  hath.  Indeed 
the  schoolmen  say  that  affiance  is  nothing  but  strengthened  hope. 
Affiance  in  the  properest  sense  is  the  same  in  substance  as  hope ; 
only  it  more  expresseth  a  respect  to  the  promise  and  promiser,  and 
indeed  is  faith  and  hope  expressed  in  one  word.  So  that  w"liat  I 
said  before  of  distrust  is  true  of  despair.  If  you  do  continue  to  be- 
lieve the  truth  of  the  gospel,  and  particularly  of  Christ's  coming 
and  glorifying  his  saints,  and  yet  you  tliink  he  will  not  glorify  you, 
because  you  think  that  you  are  not  a  true  believer  or  saint ;  this  is 
not  desperation  in  the  proper  sense.  For  desperation  is  the  priva- 
tion of  hope,  where  the  formal  cause,  the  heart  and  life  of  it,  is 
wanting.  But  you  have  here  hope  in  the  habit,  and  virtually  do 
hope  in  Christ ;  but  the  act  of  it,  as  to  your  own  particular  salva- 
tion, is  hindered,  upon  an  accidental  mistake.  In  the  fore-mention- 
ed example,  if  your  friend  promise  to  give  you  an  hundred  pounds 
on  condition  of  your  thankful  acceptance,  and  promiseth  to  come 
at  such  an  hour  and  bring  it  you  ;  if  now  you  stay  till  the  hour  be 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  '3'i'i 

almost  come,  and  then  say,  '  I  am  out  of  hope  of  his  coming  now ; 
he  hath  broke  his  word  ;'  this  is  properly  a  despair  in  your  friend. 
But  if  you  only  think  that  you  have  overstaid  the  time,  and  tliat  it 
is  past,  and  therefore  you  shall  not  have  the  gift,  this  may  be  "called 
a  despair  of  the  event,  and  a  despair  in  yourself,  but  not  properly 
a  despair  of  your  friend  ;  only  the  act  of  hoping  in  God  is  hindered, 
as  is  said.  So  it  is  in  our  present  case.  Men  may  be  said  to  de- 
spair of  their  salvation,  and  to  despair  in  themselves,  but  not  to  de- 
spair in  God,  except  the  formal  cause  of  such  despair  were  there 
present ;  and  except  they  are  drawn  to  it,  by  not  believing  his 
truth  and  faithfulness.  The  true  nature  of  despair  is  expressed  in 
that  of  the  apostles,  Luke  xxiv.  21.  *'  We  trusted  that  that  was 
he  that  should  redeem  Israel ;"  only  it  was  but  imperfect  despair, 
else  it  had  been  damnable.  Their  hopes  were  shaken.  And  for 
my  part,  I  am  persuaded  that  it  is  only  this  ])roper  despair  in  God, 
which  is  the  damnable  desperation,  which  is  threatened  in  the 
Scripture,  and  not  the  former.  And  that  if  a  poor  soul  should  go 
out  of  this  world  without  any  actual  hope  of  his  own  salvation, 
merely  because  he  thinks  that  he  is  no  true  believer,  that  this  soul 
may  be  saved,  and  prove  a  true  believer  for  all  this.  Alas !  the 
great  sin  that  God  threateneth  is  our  distrust  of  his  faithfulness, 
and  not  the  doubting  of  our  own  sincerity  and  distrust  of  ourselves. 
We  have  great  reason  to  be  very  jealous  of  our  own  hearts,  as, 
knowing  them  to  be  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked,  who  can  know  them  ?  But  we  have  no  reason  to  be  jeal- 
ous of  God.  Where  find  you  in  Scripture  that  any  is  condemned 
for  hard  thoughts  of  themselves,  or  for  not  knowing  themselves  to 
have  true  grace,  and  for  thinking  they  had  none  ?  It  is  true,  un- 
belief in  God's  promise  is  that  men  are  condemned  for,  even  that 
sin  which  is  an  aversion  of  the  soul  frofn  God.  But  perhaps  you 
will  ask,  Is  doubting  of  our  own  sincerity  and  salvation  no  sin  ?  I 
answer,  doubting  is  either  taken  in  opposition  to  believing,  or  in  op- 
position to  knowing,  or  to  conjecturing. 

1.  Doubting,  as  it  signifieth  only  a  not  believing  that  our  sins  are 
pardoned,  and  we  shall  be  saved,  is  no  sin  ;  (still  remember  that  I 
take  believing  in  the  strict,  proper  sense  of  the  crediting  of  a  divine 
testimony  or  assertion.)  For  God  hath  no  where  commanded  us 
ordinarily  to  beheve  eitiier  of  these.  I  say  ordinarily  (as  I  did  in 
the  proposition  before)  because  when  Christ  was  on  earth  he  told 
a  man  personally,  "  Thy  ^ins  are  forgiven  thee ;"  (whether  he 
meant  only  as  to  the  present  disease  inflicted  for  them,  or  also  all 
punishment  temporal  and  eternal,  1  will  not  now  discuss  ;)  so  Nathan 
from  God  told  David,  his  sin  was  forgiven.  But  these  were  privi- 
leges only  to  these  persons,  and  not  common  to  all.  God  hath  no 
where  said,  either  that  all  men's  sins  nra  actually  forgiven,  or  that 


324  t)lRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

yours  or  mine  by  name  are  forgiven  ;  but  only  that  all  that  believe 
are  forgiven,  which  supposeth  them  to  believe  before  they  are  for- 
given, and  that  they  may  be  forgiven,  and  therefore  it  is  not  true 
that  tliey  are  forgiven,  before  they  believe.  And  therefore  this 
faith  is  not  a  believing  that  they  are  forgiven,  but  a  believing  on 
Christ  for  forgiveness.  Else  men  must  believe  an  untruth,  to  make 
it  become  true  by  their  believing  it. 

2.  But  now  doubting,  as  it  is  opposed  to  the  knowledge  of  our 
remission  and  justification,  in  those  that  are  justified,  is  a  sin.  For 
it  can  be  no  sin  for  an  unjustified  person  to  know  that  he  is  unjus- 
tified. But  then  I  pray  you  mark  how  far  it  is  a  sin  in  the  godly, 
and  what  manner  of  sin  it  is.  1.  It  is  a  sin,  as  it  is  part  of  our 
natural  ignorance,  and  original  depravedness  of  our  understandings, 
or  a  fruit  hereof,  and  of  our  strangeness  to  our  own  hearts,  and  of 
their  deep  deceitfulness,  confusion,  mutability,  or  negligence.  *  2. 
And  further,  as  all  these  are  increased  by  long  custom  in  sinning, 
and  so  the  discerning  of  our  states  is  become  more  difficult,  it  is 
yet  a  greater  sin.  3.  It  is  a  sin,  as  it  is  the  fruit  of  any  particular 
sin  by  which  we  have  obscured  our  own  graces,  and  provoked  God 
to  hide  his  face  from  us.  And  so  all  ignorance  of  any  truth  which 
we  ought  to  know,  is  a  sin ;  so  the  ignorance  of  our  own  regenera- 
tion and  sincerity  is  a  sin,  because  we  ought  to  know  it.  But  this 
is  so  far  from  being  the  great  condemning  sin  of  unbelief  which 
Christ  threateneth  in  his  new  law,  that  it  is  none  of  the  greatest  or 
most  heinous  sort  of  sins,  but  the  infirmity  in  some  measure  of  every 
Christian. 

And  let  me  further  acquaint  you  with  this  difference  between 
these  doublings,  and  your  fears  and  sorrows  that  follow  thereupon. 
Though  the  doubtings  itself  be  your  sin,  yet  I  suppose  that  the 
fears,  and  sorrows,  and  careS,  that  follow  it,  may  be  your  duty.  Yet 
respectively,  and  by  remote  participation,  even  these  also  must  be 
acknowledged  sinful ;  even  as  our  prayers  for  that  pardon  which 
we  have  received  and  knew  it  not,  may,  by  remote  participation,  be 
called  sinful;  because  if  we  had  not  sinned,  we  should  not  have 
been  ignorant  of  our  own  hearts.  And  if  we  had  not  been  igno- 
rant, we  should  not  have  doubted  of  the  least  true  grace  we  have. 
And  if  we  had  not  so  doubted,  we  should  not  have  feared,  or  sor- 
rowed, or  prayed  for  that  remission  in  that  sense.  But  yet,  though 
these  may  be  called  sinflil,  as  they  come  from  sin,  yet  more  nearly 
and  in  themselves  considered,  on  supposition  of  our  present  estate, 
they  are  all  duties,  and  great  duties  necessary  to  our  salvation. 
You  may  say  to  a  thief  that  begs  for  pardon,  'If  thou  hadst  not 
stolen,  thou  hadst  not  need  to  have  begged  pardon.'  Yet  suppos- 
ing that  he  hath  stolen,  it  may  be  his  duty  to  beg  pardon.  And 
so  you  may  say  to  a  poor  fearing  soul,  that  fears  damnation  and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  325 

God's  wrath,  '  Thou  needst  not  fear  if  thou  hadst  not  sinned.'  But 
when  he  hath  once,  by  sin,  obscured  his  evidences,  and  necessitated 
doubting,  then  is  fear,  and  sorrow,  and  praying  for  justification  and 
pardon,  his  duty,  and  indeed  not  fitly  to  be  called  sin,  but  rather  a 
iruit  of  sin,  in  one  respect,  (and  so  hath  some  participation  in  it,) 
but  a  fruit  of  the  Spirit,  and  of  Christ's  command  in  another  re- 
spect, and  so  a  necessary  duty.  For  else  we  should  say,  that  it  is 
a  sin  to  repent  and  believe  in  Christ,  and  to  love  him  as  our  Re- 
deemer; for  you  may  say  to  any  sinner,  'Thou  needst  not  to 
have  repented,  believed  in  a  Redeemer,  &c.,  but  for  thy  sin ;'  yet 
I  hope  none  will  say,  that  so  doing  is  properly  a  sin,  though  douig 
them  defectively  is.  God  doth  not  will  and  approve  of  it,  that  any 
soul  that  can  see  no  signs  of  grace  and  sincerity  in  itself  should  yet 
be  as  confident,  and  merry,  and  careless,  as  if  they  were  certain 
that  all  were  well.  God  would  not  have  men  doubt  of  his  love, 
and  yet  make  light  of  it.  This  is  a  contempt  of  him.  Else  what 
should  poor,  carnal  sinners  do  that  find  themselves  unsanctified  ? 
No,  nor  doth  God  expect  that  any  man  should  judge  of  himself 
better  than  he  hath  evidence  to  warrant  such  a  judgment.  But 
that  every  man  should  "  prove  his  own  work,  that  so  he  may  have 
rejoicing  in  himself  alone,  and  not  in  another.  For  he  tliat  think- 
eth  he  is  something  when  he  is  nothing,  deceiveth  himself;"  Gal. 
vi.  3 — 6.  And  no  man  should  be  a  self-deceiver,  especially  in  a 
case  of  such  inexpressible  consequence.  It  is  therefore  a  most 
desperate  doctrine  of  the  Antinomians,  (as  most  of  theirs  are,)  that 
all  men  ought  to  believe  God's  special  love  to  them,  and  their  own 
justification.  And  that  they  are  justified  by  believing  that  they 
were  justified  before,  and  that  no  man  ought  to  question  his  faith, 
(saith  Saltmarsh,  any  more  than  to  question  Christ.)  And  that  all 
fears  of  our  damnation,  or  not  being  justified  after  this  believing, 
are  sin  ;  and  those  that  persuade  to  them,  are  preachers  of  the  law. 
(How  punctually  do  the  most  profane,  ungodly  people  hold  most 
points  of  the  Antinomian  belief,  though  they  never  knew  that  sect 
by  name  ?)  God  commandeth  no  man  to  believe  more  than  is  true, 
nor  immediately  to  cast  away  their  doubts  and  fears,  but  to  over- 
come them  in  an  orderly,  methodical  way;  that  is,  using  God's 
means  till  their  graces  become  more  discernible,  and  their  under- 
standings more  clear  and  fit  to  discern  them,  that  so  we  may  have 
assurance  of  their  sincerity,  and  thereby  of  our  justification,  adop- 
tion, and  right  to  glorification.  "  Let  us  therefore  fear,  lest  a 
promise  being  left  of  entering  into  his  rest  any  of  us  should  seem 
to  come  short  fjf  it ; "  Heb.  iv.  1.  "Serve  the  Lord  with  fear, 
and  rejoice  before  him  in  trembling ;  kiss  the  Son,  lest  he  be  angry, 
and  ye  perish;"  Psal.  ii.  U.  "Workout  your  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling;"  Phil.  ii.  12.     Not  onlv,  1.  A  reverent  fear 


3r26  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

of  God's  majesty^  2.  And  a  filial  fear  of  offending  him.  3.  And 
an  awful  fear  of  his  judgments,  when  we  see  them  executed  on 
others,  and  hear  them  threatened.  4.  And  a  filial  fear  of  tempo- 
ral chastisements  are  lawful,  and  our  duty  ;  but  also,  5.  A  fear  of 
damnation  exciting  to  most  careful  importunity  to  escape  it ;  when- 
ever we  have  so  far  obscured  our  evidences,  as  to  see  no  strong 
probability  of  our  sincerity  in  the  faith,  and  so  of  our  salvation. 
The  sum  of  my  speech,  therefore,  is  this :  Do  not  think  that  all 
your  fears  of  God's  wrath  are  your  sins  ;  much  of  them  is  your  great 
duty.  Do  you  not  feel  that  God  made  these  fears,  at  your  first 
conversion,  the  first  and  a  principal  means  of  your  recovery  ?  To 
drive  you  to  a  serious  consideration  of  your  state  and  ways,  and  to 
look  after  Christ  with  more  longing  and  estimation  ?  And  to  use 
the  means  with  more  resolution  and  diligence  ?  Have  not  these 
fears  been  chief  preservers  of  your  diligence  and  integrity  ever 
since  ?  I  know  love  should  do  more  then  it  doth  with  us  all.  But 
if  we  had  not  daily  use  for  both,  (love  and  fear,)  God  would  not, 
1.  Have  planted  them  both  in  our  natures.  2.  And  have  renewed 
them  both  by  regenerating  grace.  3.  And  have  put  into  his 
word  the  objects  to  move  both,  (viz.  threatenings  as  well  as  prom- 
ises.) That  feai-  of  God  which  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom,  in- 
cludeth  the  fear  of  his  threatened  wrath.  I  could  say  abundance 
more  to  prove  this,  that  I  know  as  to  you  it  is  needless  for  convic- 
tion of  it ;  but  remember  the  use  of  it.  Do  not  put  the  name  of 
unbelief  upon  all  your  fears  of  God's  displeasure.  Much  less  should 
you  presently  conclude  that  you  have  no  faith,  and  that  you  cannot 
believe,  because  of  these  fears.  You  may  have  much  faith  in  the 
midst  of  these  fears  ;  and  God  may  make  them  preservers  of  your 
faith,  by  quickening  you  up  to  those  means  that  must  maintain  it, 
and  by  keeping  you  from  those  evils  that  would  be  as  a  worm  at 
the  root  of  it,  and  eat  out  its  precious  strength  and  life.  Security 
is  no  friend  to  faith,  but  a  more  deadly  enemy  than  fear  itself. 

Object.  '  Then  Cain  and  Judas  sinned  not  by  despairing,  or  at 
least  not  damnably.' 

Aiisw.  1 .  They  despaired  not  only  of  themselves,  and  of  the 
event  of  their  salvation,  but  also  of  God  ;  of  his  power  or  good- 
ness, and  promise,  and  the  sufficiency  of  any  satisfaction  of  Christ. 
Their  infidelity  was  the  root  of  their  despair.  2.  Far  it  is  from 
me  to  say  or  think  that  you  should  despair  of  the  event,  or  that  it 
is  no  sin ;  yea,  or  fhat  you  should  cherish  causeless  and  excessive 
jealousies  .and  fears.  Take  heed  of  all  fears  that  drive  you  from 
God,  or  that  distract  or  weaken  your  spirit,  or  disable  you  fi'om 
duty,  or  drown  your  love  to  God,  and  delight  in  him,  and  destroy 
your  apprehensions  of  God's  loveliness  and  compassion,  and  raise 
black,  and  hard,  and   unworthy  thoughts  of  God  in  your  mind. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  3'2T 

Again,  1  entreat  youj  avoid  and  abhor  all  such  fears.  But  if  you 
find  in  you  the  fears  of  godly  jealousy  of  your  own  heart,  and  such 
moderated  fears  of  the  wrath  of  God,  which  banish  security,  pre- 
sumption, and  boldness  in  sinning,  and  are  (as  Dr.  Sibbs  calls 
them)  the  awe-band  of  your  soul;  and  make  you  fly  to  the  merits 
and  bosom  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  as  the  affrighted  child  to  the  lap  of 
the  mother,  and  as  the  man-slayer,  under  the  law,  to  the  city  of 
refuge,  and  as  a  man  pursued  by  a  lion,  to  his  sanctuary  or  hold  ; 
do  not  think  you  have  no  faith,  because  you  have  these  fears,  but 
moderate  them  by  faith  and  love,  and  then  thank  God  for  them. 
Indeed,  perfect  love  (which  will  be  in  heaven  when  all  is  perfect- 
ed) will  cast  out  this  fear;  and  sO  it  will  do  sorrow  and  care,  and 
prayer  and  means.  But  see  you  lay  not  these  by  till  perfect  love 
cast  them  out.  See  Jer.  v.  22,  23.  Heb.  xii.  two  last  verses. 
"  Wherefore  we  receiving  a  kingdom  which  cannot  be  moved,  let 
us  serve  God  acceptably,  with  reverence  and  godly  fear.  For  our 
God  is  a  consuming  fire." 

1  am  sensible  that  1  am  too  large  on  these  foregoing  heads ;  I 
will  purposely  shorten  the  rest,  lest  I  weary  you. 

Direct.  XIX.  Further  understand,  '  That  those  few  who  do  attain 
to  assurance,  have  it  not  either  perfectly  or  constantly,  (for  the  most 
part,)  but  mixed  with  imperfection,  and  oft  clouded  and  interrupted.' 
That  the  highest  assurance  on  earth  is  imperfect,  I  have  showed 
you  elsewhere.  If  we  be  imperfect,  and  our  faith  imperfect,  and 
the  knowledge  of  our  own  hearts  imperfect,  and  all  our  evidences 
and  graces  imperfect ;  then  our  assurance  must  needs  be  imperfect 
also.  To  dream  of  perfection  on  earth  is  to  dream  of  heaven  on 
earth.  And  if  assurance  may  be  here  perfect,  why' not  all  our 
graces  ?  Even  when  all  doubtings  are  overcome,  yet  is  assurance 
far  short  of  the  highest  degree. 

Besides,  that  measure  of  assurance  which  godly  men  do  partake 
of,  hath  here  its  many  sad  interruptions,  in  the  most.  Upon  the 
prevalency  of  temptations,  and  the  hidings  of  God's  face,  their 
souls  are  oft  left  in  a  state  of  sadness,  that  were  but  lately  in  the 
arms  of  Christ.  How  fully  might  this  be  proved  from  the  exam- 
ples of  Job,  David,  Jeremy,  and  others  in  Scripture !  And  much 
more  abundantly  by  the  daily  complaints  and  examples  of  the  best 
of  God's  people  now  living  among  us !  As  there  is  no  perfect 
evenness  to  be  expected  in  our  obedience  while  we  are  on  earth, 
so  neither  will  there  be  any  constant  or  perfect  evenness  in  our 
comforts.  He  that  hath  life  in  one  duty,  is  cold  in  the  next.  And 
therefore  he  that  hath  much  joy  in  one  duty,  hath  little  in  the  next. 
Yea,  perliaps  duty  may  but  occasion  the  renewal  of  his  sorrows ; 
that  the  soul  who  before  felt  not  its  own  burden  at  a  sermon,  or  in 
prayer,  or  holy  meditation,  which  were  wont  to  revive  him,  now 


328  DlRKCTIONS    FOR    GETTING    ANB    KEEPING 

seems  to  feel  his  miseries  to  be  multiplied.  The  time  was  once 
with  David,  when  thoughts  of  God  were  sweet  to  him,  and  he 
could  say,  "  In  the  multitude  of  my  thoughts  within  me,  thy  com- 
forts delight  my  soul,"  And  yet  he  saw  the  time  also  when  he 
remembered  God  and  was  troubled ;  he  complained,  and  his  spirit 
was  overwhelmed.  God  so  held  his  eyes  waking,  that  he  was 
troubled  and  could  not  speak.  He  considered  the  days  of  old,  and 
the  years  of  ancient  time  ;  he  called  to  remembrance  his  song  in 
the  night,  he  communed  with  his  own  heart,  and  his  spirit  made 
diligent  search.  "Will  the  Lord  (saith  he)  cast  off  forever? 
And  will  he  be  favorable  no  more  ?  Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for- 
ever ?  Doth  his  promise  fail  for  evermore  ?  Hath  God  forgotten 
to  be  gracious  ?  Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercy  ?  " 
Was  not  this  a  low  ebb,  and  a  sad  case  that  David  was  in  ?  Till 
at  last  he  saw  this  was  his  infirmity;  Psal.  Ixxii.  1 — ^10.  Had 
David  no  former  experiences  to  remind  ?  No  arguments  of  com- 
fort to  consider  of?  Yes,  but  there  is,  at  such  a  season,  an  inca- 
pacity to  improve  them.  There  is  not  only  a  want  of  comfort,  but 
a  kind  of  averseness  from  it.  The  soul  bendeth  itself  to  break  its 
own  peace,  and  to  put  away  comfort  far  from  it.  So  saith  he  in 
ver.  2.  "  My  soul  refuseth  to  be  comforted,"  In  such  cases,  men 
are  witty  to  argue  themselves  into  distress ;  that  it  is  hard  for  one 
that  would  comfort  them  to  answer  them ;  and  they  are  witty  in 
repelling  all  the  arguments  of  comfort  that  you  can  offer  them ; 
so  that  it  is  hard  to  fasten  any  thing  on  them.  They  have  a'weak 
willfulness  against  their  own  consolations. 

Seeing,  then,  that  the  best  have  such  storms  and  sad  interruptions, 
do  not  you  wonder,  or  think  your  case  strange  if  it  be  so  with  you. 
Would  you  speed  better  than  the  best  ?  Long  for  heaven,  then, 
where  only  is  joy  without  sorrow,  and  everlasting  rest  without 
interruption. 

Direct.  XX.  Let  me  also  give  you  this  warning,  '  That  you 
must  never  expect  so  much  assurance  on  earth  as  shall  set  you 
above  the  possibility  of  the  loss  of  heaven ;  or  above  all  apprehen- 
.sions  of  real  danger  of  your  miscarrying.' 

I  conceive  this  advertisement  to  be  of  great  necessity.  But  I 
must  first  tell  you  the  meaning,  and  then  the  reasons  of  it.  Only 
I  am  sorry  that  I  know  not  how  to  express  it  fully,  but  in  school- 
terms,  which  are  not  so  familiar  to  you.  That  which  shall  cer- 
tainly come  to  pass,  we  call  a  thing  future.  That  which  may  and 
can  be  done,  we  call  possible.  All  things  are  not  future  which 
are  possible.  God  can  do  more  than  he  hath  done  or  will  do.  He 
could  have  made  more  worlds,  and  so  more  were  possible  than 
were  future.  Moreover,  a  thing  is  said  to  be  possible,  in  reference 
to  •  some  power  which  can  accomplish  it ;  whether  it  be  God's 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  329 

power,  or  angel's,  or  man's.  God  hath  decreed  that,  none  of  his 
elect  shall  finally  or  totally  fall  away  and  perish  ;  and  therefore 
their  so  falling  and  perishing  is  not  future  ;  that  is,  it  is  a  thing  that 
shall  never  come  to  pass.  But  God  never  decreed  that  it  should 
be  utterly  impossible,  and  therefore  it  still  remaineth  possible, 
though  it  shall  never  come  to  pass. 

Object.  But  it  is  said,  '  They  shall  deceive,  if  it  were  possible, 
the  very  elect.' 

Amw.  A  most  comfortable  place,  which  many  opposers  of 
election  and  free  grace  do  in  vain  seek  to  obscure.  But  let  me 
tell  you,  for  the  right  understanding  of  it,  That  as  I  said,  possible 
and  impossible  are  relative  terms,  and  have  relation  to  the  power 
of  some  agent,  as  proportioned  to  tiie  thing  to  be  done.  Now, 
this  text  speaks  only  of  the  power  of  false  Christs,  and  false 
prophets,  and  the  devil  by  them.  Their  power  of  deceiving  is  ex- 
ceeding great,  but  not  great  enough  to  deceive  the  elect ;  which  is 
true  in  two  respects  ;  1 .  Because  the  elect  are  guided  and  fortified 
by  God's  Spirit.  2.  Because  seducers  work  not  efficiently,  but 
finally,  by  propounding  objects  ;  or  by  a  moral,  improper  efficiency 
only.  AH  their  seducements  cannot  force  or  necessitate  us  to  be 
deceived  by  them.  But  though  it  be  impossible  to  them  to  do  it, 
yet  it  is  possible  to  God  to  permit,  (which  yet  he  never  will,)  and 
so,  possible  for  ourselves  to  be  our  own  deceivers,  or  to  give  de- 
ceivers strength  against  us,  by  a  willful  receiving  of  their  poisoned 
baits.  3.  Besides,  Christ  spoke  not  in  Aristotle's  school,  but 
among  the  vulgar,  where  words  must  be  used  in  the  common  sense, 
or  else  they  will  not  be  understood.  And  the  vulgar  use  to  call 
that  impossible  which  shall  never  come  to  pass. 

There  is  a  consequential  impossibility  of  the  event,  because  it 
is  directly  impossible  that  God  should  be  mutable  or  deceived ; 
even  as  contingents  may  be  consequentially  and  accidentally  ne- 
cessary. But  in  its  ovm  nature,  alas !  our  apostasy  is  more  than 
possible. 

And,  indeed,  when  we  say  that  it  is  possible  or  impossible  for  a 
man  to  sin  or  fall  avt^ay,  there  is  some  degree  of  impropriety  in  the 
terms,  because  possible  and  impossible  are  terms  propei'ly  relating 
to  some  power  apportioned  to  a  work;  but  sinning  and  falling  away 
thereby,  are  the  consequents  of  impotency,  and  not  the  effects  of 
power;  except  we  speak  of  the  natural  act,  wherein  the  sin  abid- 
eth.  But  this  must  be  borne  with,  for  want  of  a  fitter  word  to 
express  our  meaning  by.  But  I  will  leave  these  things  which  are 
not  fit  for  you,  and  desire  you  to  leave  them  and  overpass  them,  if 
you  understand  them  not. 

I  here  told  you,  also,  that  you  must  not  look  to  be  above  all  ap- 
prehension of  danger  of  your  miscarrying.     The  grounds  of  this 
VOL.  I.  42 


330  DIRECTIO^'S    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

are  these:  I.  Because,  as  is  said,  our  miscarrying  remaineth  still 
possible.  2.  Because  the  perfect  certain  knowledge  of  our  elec- 
tion, and  that  we  shall  not  fall  away,  is  proper  to  God  only;  we 
have  ourselves  but  a  defective,  interrupted  assurance  of  it.  3.  The 
covenant  gives  us  salvation  but  on  condition  of  our  perseverance, 
and  perseverance  on  condition  that  we  quench  not  the  Spirit,  which 
we  shall  do  if  we  lose  the  apprehension  of  our  danger.  4.  Ac- 
cordingly there  is  a  connection,  in  our  assurance,  between  all  the 
several  causes  of  our  salvation,  and  necessaries  thereto ;  whereof 
the  apprehension  of  danger  is  one.  We  are  sure  we  shall  be  saved, 
if  we  be  sure  to  persevere ;  else  not.  We  are  sure  to  persevere, 
if  we  be  sure  faithfully  to  resist  temptations.  We  can  be  no  surer 
of  faithful  resisting  of  temptations,  than  we  are  sure  to  be  kept  in 
an  apprehension  of  our  danger. 

I  still  say,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine  of  Antinomians  is  the  most 
ready  way  to  apostasy  and  perdition ;  and  no  wonder  if  it  lead  to 
licentiousness  and  scandals,  which  our  eyes  have  seen  to  be  its 
genuine  fruits  !  They  cry  down  the  weakness,  unbelief,  and  folly 
of  poor  Christians,  that  will  apprehend  themselves  in  danger  of 
falling  away,  and  so  live  in  fear,  after  they  are  once  justified  ;  and 
that  if  they  fall  into  sin  (as  whoredom,  drunkenness,  murder,  per- 
jury, destroying  the  ministry,  and  expelling  the  gospel,  &ic.)  will 
presently  question  or  fear  then*  estates  and  their  justification.  Such 
like  passages  I  lately  read  in  some  printed  sermons  of  one  of  my 
ancient  acquaintance,  who  would  never  have  come  to  that  pass 
that  he  is  at  now,  if  his  judgment  and  humility  had  been  as  great 
as  his  zeal.  I  entreat  you,  therefore,  never  to  expect  such  an  as- 
surance as  shall  extinguish  all  your  apprehensions  of  danger.  He 
that  sees  not  the  danger,  is  nearest  it,  and  likely  to  fall  into  it. 
Only  he  that  seeth  and  apprehendeth  it,  is  likely  to  avoid  it.  He 
that  seeth  no  danger  of  falling  away,  is  in  greatest  danger  of  it.  I 
doubt  not  but  that  is  the  cause  of  the  seditions,  scandals,  heresies, 
blood-guiltiness,  destroyers  of  the  churches  of  Christ,  and  most 
horrid  apostasies,  hypocrisy,  and  wickedness,  which  these  late 
times  have  been  guilty  of;  and  they  apprehended  not  the  danger 
of  ever  coming  into  such  a  state,  or  ever  doing  such  things,  but 
would  have  said,  'Am  I  a  dog  ? '  to  him  that  should  have  foretold 
them  what  is  come  to  pass.  Wonderful !  that  men  should  be  so 
blinded  by  false  doctrine,  as  not  to  know  that  the  apprehension  of 
danger  is  made,  in  the  very  fabrication  of  the  nature  of  man,  to  be 
the  very  entine  to  move  his  soul  in  all  ways  of  self-preservation 
and  salvation  !  Yea,  it  is  that  very  supposed  principle  upon  which 
all  the  government  of  the  world,  and  the  laws  and  order  of  every 
nation,  are  grounded.  We  could  not  keep  the  very  brutes  from 
tearing  us  in  pieces,  but  for  their  own  safety,  because  they  appre-' 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  331 

hended  themselves  to  be  in  danger  by  it.  The  fear  of  man  is  that 
restraineth  them.  But  lor  this,  no  man's  life  would  be  in  any 
safety,  for  every  malicious  man  would  be  a  murderer.  He  that 
feareth  not  the  loss  of  his  own  life,  is  master  of  another  man's. 
Do  these  men  think  that  the  apprehension  of  bodily  dangers  may 
carry  them  on  through  all  undertakings,  and  be  the  potent  string 
of  most  of  theu"  actions,  and  warrant  all  those  courses  that  else 
would  be  unwarrantable,  so  that  they  dare  plead  necessity  to  war- 
rant those  fearful  things  which,  by  extenuating  language,  (like 
Saul's,)  are  called  irregularities !  And  yet  that  it  is  unlawful  or 
unmeet  for  a  Christian,  yea,  the  weakest  Christian,  to  live  in  any 
apprehensions  of  danger  to  their  soul ;  either  danger  of  sinning,  or 
falling  away,  or  perishing  forever  ?  No  wonder  if  such  do  sin,  and  fall 
away  and  perish.  Would  these  men  have  fought  well  by  sea  or  land, 
if  they  had  apprehended  no  danger  ?  Would  the  earth  have  been  so 
covered  with  carcasses,  and  with  blood,  (yea,  even  of  saints,)  and  the 
world  filled  with  the  doleful  calamities  that  accompanied  and  have 
followed,  if  there  had  been  no  apprehensions  of  danger  ?  Would 
they  take  physic  when  they  are  sick  ?  Would  they  avoid  fire  or 
water,  or  thieves,  but  through  an  apprehension  of  danger?  Let 
them  talk  what  they  please,  if  ever  they  escape  hell,  without  a 
deep  apprehension  of  the  danger  of  it,  it  must  be  in  a  way  not 
known  by  Scripture,  or  by  nature.  Sure  I  am  Paul  did  tame  his 
body,  and  bring  it  into  subjection,  through  an  apprehension  of  this 
danger,  lest,  when  he  had  preached  to  others,  himself  should  be 
a  castaway  or  reprobate ;  2  Cor.  ix.  27.  And  Christ  himself,  when 
he  biddeth  us  "fear  not  them  that  can  kill  the  body,"  (whom  yet 
these  men  think  it  lawful  to  fear  and  fight  against,)  yet  chargeth 
us  with  a  double  charge  to  "  fear  him  that  is  able  to  destroy  both 
body  and  soul  in  hell :  yea,  I  say  unto  you,  (saith  Christ,)  fear 
hhn;"  Luke  xii.  5.  What  can  be  plainer?  and  to  his  disciples? 
My  detestation  of  these  destructive  Antinomian  principles,  makes 
me  to  run  out  further  against  them  than  I  intended  ;  though  it  were 
easy  more  abundantly  to  manifest  their  hatefulness.  But  my  rea- 
sons are  these :  1 .  Because  the  mountebanks  are  still  thrusting  in 
themselves,  and  impudently  proclaiming  their  own  skill,  and  the 
excellency  of  their  remedies  for  the  cure  of  wounded  consciences, 
and  the  settling  of  peace ;  when,  indeed,  their  receipts  are  rank 
poison,  gilded  with  the  precious  name  of  Christ,  and  free  grace. 
2.  Because  I  would  not  have  your  doubtings  cured  by  the  devil ; 
for  he  will  but  cure  one  disease  with  another,  and  a  lesser  vvith  a 
far  greater.  If  he  can  so  cure  your  fears  and  doubtings,  as  to 
bring  you  into  carnal  security  and  presumption,  he  will  lose  nothing 
by  the  cure,  and  you  will  get  nothing.  If  he  can  turn  a  poor, 
doubting,  troubled  Christian  to  be  a  secure  Antinomian,  he  hath 


332        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

cured  the  smart  of  a  cut  finger  by  casting  them  into  a  lethargy  or 
stupefaction  by  his  opium.  To  go  to  Antinomian  receipts  to  cure 
a  troubled  soul,  is  as  going  to  a  witch  to  cure  the  body.  3.  1 
would  have  you  sensible  of  God's  goodness  to  you,  in  these  very 
troubles  that  you  have  so  long  laid  under.  Your  blessed  Physician 
knew  your  disease,  and  the  temperature  of  your  soul.  Perhaps 
he  saw  that  you  were  in  some  danger  of  being  carried  away  with 
the  honors,  profits,  or  treasures  of  tliis  world ;  and  would  have  been 
entangled  in  either  covetousness,  pride,  voluptuousness,  or  some 
such  desperate  sin.  And  now,  by  these  constant  and  extraordina- 
ry apprehensions  of  your  danger,  these  sins  have  been  much  kept 
under,  temptations  weakened,  and  your  danger  prevented.  If  you 
have  found  no  such  inclinations  in  yourself,  yet  God  might  find 
them.  Had  it  not  been  far  worse  for  you  to  have  lain  so  many 
years  in  pride,  sensuality,  and  forgetfulness  of  God,  and  utter  neg- 
lect of  the  state  of  your  soul,  than  to  have  lain  so  long  as  you  have 
done  in  the  apprehensions  of  your  danger  ?  O  love  and  admire 
your  wise  Physician !  Little  do  you  know  now  what  he  hath 
been  doing  for  you  ;  nor  shall  you  ever  fully  know  it  in  this  life ; 
but  hereafter  you  shall  knovv^  it,  when  your  sanctification,  and  con- 
solation, and  his  praises,  shall  be  perfected  together.  4.  If  you 
should,  for  the  time  to  come,  expect  or  desire  that  God  should  set 
you  out  of  all  apprehension  of  danger,  you  know  not  what  it  is  that 
you  desire.  It  were  to  desire  your  own  undoing.  Only  see  that 
you  apprehend  not  your  danger  to  be  greater  than  it  is ;  nor  so 
apprehend  it  as  to  increase  it,  by  driving  you  from  Christ,  but  as 
to  prevent  it  by  driving  you  to  him.  Entertain  not  fancies  and 
dreams  of  danger,  instead  of  right  apprehensions.  Apprehend 
your  happiness  and  grounds  of  hope  and  comfort,  and  safety  in 
Christ,  and  let  these  quite  exceed  your  apprehensions  of  the  dan- 
ger. Look  not  on  it  as  a  remediless  danger,  or  as  greater  than  the 
remedy.  Do  not  conclude  that  you  shall  perish  in  it,  and  it  will 
swallow  you  up.  But  only  let  it  make  you  hold  fast  on  Christ, 
and  keep  close  to  him  in  obedience.  Shall  I  lay  open  all  the 
matter  expressed  in  this  section,  by  familiar  comparison? 

A  king  having  many  subjects  and  sons,  which  are  all  beyond  sea, 
or  beyond  some  river,  they  must  needs  be  brought  over  to  him 
before  they  can  live  or  reign  with  him.  The  river  is  frozen  over 
at  the  sides,  till  it  come  ahnost  to  the  middle.  The  foolish  chil- 
dren are  all  playing  on  the  ice,  where. a  deceiving  enemy  enticeth 
them  to  play  on,  till  they  come  to  the  deep,  where  they  drop  in 
one  by  one  and  perish.  The  eldest  son,  who  is  with  the  father  on 
the  other  side,  undertaketh  to  cast  himself  into  the  water,  and 
swim  to  the  further  side,  and  break  the  ice,  and  swim  back  with 
them  all  that  will  come  with  him  and  hold  him.     The  father  bids 


SPIRITUAL    I'feACE    AND    COMFORT.  333 

him,  '  Bring  all  my  subjects  with  you,  if  they  will  come  and  hold 
by  you ;  but  be  sure  you  fail  not  to  bring  my  sons.'     Tliis  is  re- 
solved on  ;  the  prince  casteth  himself  into  the  water,  and  swimmeth 
to  the  flirther  side.     He  maketh  a  way  through  the  ice,  and  ofFer- 
eth  all  of  them  his  safe  carriage,  if  they  will  accept  him  to  be  their 
bearer  and  helper,  and  will  trust  themselves  on  him,  and  hold  fast 
by  him  till  they  come  to  the  further  side.     Some  refuse  his  help, 
and  think  he  would  deceive  them,  and  lead  them  into  the  deep, 
and  there  leave  them  to  perish.     Some  had  rather  play  on  the  ice, 
and  will  not  hearken  to  him.     Some  dare  not  venture  through  the 
streams,  or  will  not  endure  the  coldness  of  the  water.     Some  wa- 
veringly  agree  to  him,  and  hold  faintly  by  his  skirt;  and  when  they 
feel  the  cold  water,  or  are  near  the  deep,  or  are  weary  of  holding, 
they  lose  him ;  either  turning  back,  or  perishing  suddenly  in  the 
gulf.     The  children  are  of  the  same  mind  with  the  rest ;  but  he  is 
resolved  to  lose  none  of  them,  and  therefore  he  chargeth  them  to 
come  with  him,  and  tells  them  fully  what  a  welcome  they  shall 
have  with  their  father ;  and  ceaseth  not  his  importunity  till  he  per- 
suade them  to  consent.     Some  of  them  say,  '  How  shall  we  ever 
get  over  the  river?  We  shall  be  drowned  by  the  way.'     He  tells 
them,  '  I  will  carry  you  safe  over,  so  you  will  but  hold  fast  by  me. 
Never  fear,  1  warrant  you.'     They  all  lay  hold  on  him,  and  venture 
in  with  him.     When  they  are  in  the  midst,  some  are  afraid,  and 
cry  out,  '  We  shall  be  drowned.'     These  he  encourageth,  and  bids 
them  trust  him  ;  hold  fast,  and  fear  not.     Others,  when  they  hear 
these  words,  that  they  need  not  fear,  grow  so  bold,  and  utterly  se- 
cure, as  to  lose  their  hold.     To  these  he  speaketh  in  other  lan- 
■  guage,  and  chargeth  them  to  hold  fast  by  him ;  for  if  they  lose 
their  hold,  they  will  fall  into  the  bottom,  and  if  they  stick  not  to 
him,  they  will  be  drowned.     Some  of  them,  upon  this  warning, 
hold  fast ;  others  are  so  boldly  confident  of  his  skill,  and  good  will, 
and  promise,  that  they  forget  or  value  not  his  warning  and  threat- 
ening, but  lose  their  hold.  >    Some  through  laziness  and  weariness 
do  the  like.     Whereupon  he  lets  them  sink  till  they  are  almost 
drowned,  and  cry  out  for  help,  "  Save  us,  or  we  perish,"  and  think 
they  are  all  lost ;  and  then  he  layeth  hold  of  them,  and  fetcheth 
them  up  again,  and  chideth  tliem  for  their  bold  folly,  and  biddeth 
them  look  better  to  themselves,  and  hold  faster  by  him  hereafter, 
if  they  love  themselves.     Some  at  last,  through  mere  weariness 
and  weakness,  before  they  can  reach  the  bank,  cry  out,  '  O,  I  am 
tired,  I  faint,  I  shall  never  hold  fast  till  I  reach  the  shore,  I  shall 
be  drowned.'     These  he  comfortcth,  and  gives  them  cordials,  and 
holdeth  them  by  the  hand,  and  bids  them,  Despair  not ;  do  your 
best ;  hold  fast,  and  I  will  help  you.     x\nd.  so  he  brings  them  all 
safe  to  the  haven. 


334  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

This  king  is  God ;  heaven  is  his  habitation ;  the  subjects  are  all 
men ;  the  sons,  who  are  part  of  the  subjects,  are  the  elect ;  the 
rest  are  the  non-elect ,  the  river,  or  sea,  is  the  passage  of  this  life. 
The  further  side  is  all  men's  natural,  sinful  distance  and  separation 
from  God  and  happiness ;  the  ice  that  bears  them,  is  this  frail  life 
of  pleasures,  profits,  and  honors,  which  delight  the  flesh  ;  the  depth 
unfrozen,  is  hell ;  he  that  enticeth  them  thither  is  the  devil.  The 
eldest  son  that  is  sent  to  bring  them  over,  is  Jesus  Christ ;  his  com- 
mission and  undertaking  is,  to  help  all  over  that  refuse  not  his  help  ; 
and  to  see  that  the  elect  be  infallibly  recovered  and  saved.  Do  I 
need  to  go  over  the  other  particulars  ?  I  know  you  see  my  mean- 
ing in  them  all :  especially  that  which  I  aim  at  is  this ;  that  as 
Paul  had  a  promise  of  the  life  of  all  that  were  with  him  in  the  ship, 
and  yet  when  some  would  have  gone  out,  he  told  them,  "  Except 
these  abide  in  the  ship  ye  cannot  be  saved,"  Acts  xxvii.  31,  (so 
that  he  makes  their  apprehension  of  danger  in  a  possibility  of  being 
drowned,  to  be  the  means  of  detaining  them  in  the  ship  till  they 
came  all  safe  to  land,)  so  Jesus  Christ,  who  will  infallibly  save  all 
his  elect,  (they  being  given  him  by  his  Father  to  be  infallibly 
saved,)  will  do  it  by  causing  them  to  hold  fast  by  him  through  all 
the  troubles,  and  labors  and  temptations  of  this  tumultuous,  tem- 
pestuous world,  and  that  till  they  come  to  land ;  and  the  appre- 
hension of  their  dangers  shall  be  his  means  to  make  them  hold  fast ; 
yet  is  not  their  safety  principally  in  themselves,  but  in  him ;  nor  is 
it  their  holding  fast  by  him  that  is  the  chief  cause  of  their  differ- 
ence from  those  that  perish,  but  that  is  his  love  and  resolution  to 
save  them.  And  therefore,  when  they  do  let  go  their  hold,  he 
will  not  so  lose  them,  but  will  fetch  them  up  again ;  only  he  will 
not  bring  them  through  the  sea  of  danger  as  you  would  draw  a 
block  through  the  water  ;  but  as  men  that  must  hold  fast,  and  be 
commanded  and  threatened  to  that  end  ;  and  therefore  when  they 
lose  their  hold,  it  is  the  fear  of  drowning  which  they  felt  them- 
selves near,  which  shall  cause  them  to  hold  faster  the  next  time ; 
and  this  must  needs  be  the  fear  of  a  possible  danger.  And  for 
those  that  perish,  they  have  none  to  blame  but  themselves.  They 
perish  not  for  want  of  a  Savior,  but  because  they  would  not  lay 
hold  on  him,  and  follow  him  through  the  tempests  and  waves  of 
trial.  Nor  can  they  quarrel  at  him  because  he  did  more  for  others, 
and  did  not  as  much  for  them,  as  long  as  he  offered  them  so  suffi- 
cient help,  that  only  their  own  willful  refusal  was  their  ruin,  and 
their  perdition  was  of  themselves. 

1  conclude,  therefore,  that,  seeing  our  salvation  is  laid  by  God 
upon  our  faithful  holding  fast  to  Christ  through  all  trials  and  diffi- 
culties, and  our  holy  fear  is  the  means  of  our  holding  fast,  (Christ 
being  still  the  principal  cause  of  our  safety,)  therefore,  never  look 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT*.  335 

for  such  a  certainty  of  salvation,  as  shall  put  you  above  such 
fears  and  moderated  aj)j)reliensions  of  danger ;  for  then  it  is  ten  to 
one  you  will  lose  your  hold.  You  read  in  Scripture  very  many 
warnings  to  take  heed  lest  we  fall,  and  threatenings  to  those  that 
do  fall  away  and  draw  back.  What  are  all  these  for,  but  to  excite 
in  us  those  moderate  fears,  and  cares,  and  holy  diligence,  which 
may  prevent  our  falling  away  ?  And  remember  this,  that  there  can 
be  no  such  holy  fears,  and  cares,  and  diligence,  where  there  is  no 
danger  or  possibility  of  falling  away  ;  for  there  can  be  no  act  with- 
out its  proper  object;  and  the  object  of  fear  is  a  possible  hurt,  at 
least  in  the  apprehension  of  him  that  feareth  it.  No  man  can  fear 
the  evil  which  he  knoweth  to  be  impossible. 

Direct.  XXI.  The  next  advice  which  I  must  give  you  is  this : 
'  Be  thankful  if  you  can  but  reach  to  a  settled  peace  and  compo- 
sure of  your  mind,  and  lay  not  too  much  on  the  high  raptures  and 
feelings  of  comfort  which  some  do  possess :  and  if  ever  you  enjoy 
such  feeling  joys,  expect  not  that  they  should  be  either  long  or 
often.' 

It  is  the  cause  of  miserable  languishing  to  many  a  poor  soul,  to 
have  such  importunate  expectations  of  such  passionate  joys,  that 
they  think  without  these  they  have  no  true  comfort  at  all ;  no  wit- 
ness of  the  Spirit,  no  spirit  of  adoption,  no  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Some  think  that  others  have  much  of  this,  though  they  have  not, 
and  therefore  they  torment  themselves  because  it  is  not  with  them 
as  with  others ;  when,  alas !  they  little  know  how  it  goes  with 
others.  Some  taste  of  such  raptures  sometimes  themselves  have 
had,  and  therefore,  when  they  are  gone,  they  think  they  are  for- 
saken, and  that  all  grace,  or  peace,  at  least,  is  gone  with  them. 
Take  heed  of  these  expectations.  And  to  satisfy  you,  let  me  tell 
you  these  two  or  three  things :  1.  A  settled  calm  and  peace  of 
soul  is  a  great  mercy,  and  not  to  be  undervalued  as  nothing.  2. 
The  highest  raptures  and  passionate  feeling  joys  are  usually  of 
most  doubtful  sincerity.  Not  that  I  would  have  any  suspect  the 
sincerity  of  them  without  cause  ;  but  such  passions  are  not  so  cer- 
tain signs  of  grace,  as  the  settled  frame  of  the  understanding  and 
will ;  nor  can  we  so  easily  know  that  they  are  of  the  Spirit ;  and 
they  are  liable  to  more  questioning,  and  have  in  them  a  greater 
possibility  of  deceit.  Doubtless  it  is  very  much  that  fancy  and 
melancholy,  and  especially  a  natural  weakness  and  movable  tem- 
per, will  do  in  such  cases.  'Mark  whether  it  be  not  mostly  these 
three  sorts  of  people  that  have,  or  pretend  to  have,  such  extraor- 
dinary raptures  and  feelings  of  joy  :  (1 .)  Women,  and  others  that 
are  most  passionate.  (2.)  Melancholy  people.  (3.)  Men  that 
by  erroneous  opinions  have  lost  almost  all  their  understandings  in 
their  fancies,  and  live  like  men  in  i  continual  dream.     Yet  I  doubt 


336  DIRECTIONS    FOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

not  but  solid  men  have  oft  high  joys ;  and  more  we  might  all  have, 
if  we  did  our  duty.  And  1  would  have  no  Christian  content  him- 
self with  a  dull  quietness  of  spirit,  but  by  all  means  possible  to  be 
much  in  laboring  to  rejoice  in  God  and  raising  their  souls  to  heav- 
enly delights.  O,  what  lives  do  we  lose,  which  we  might  enjoy! 
But  my  meaning  is  this ;  look  at  these  joys  and  delights  as  duties 
and  as  mercies,  but  look  not  at  them  as  marks  of  trial,  so  as  to 
place  more  necessity  in  them  than  God  hath  done,  or  to  think  them 
to  be  ordinary  things.  If  you  do  but  feel  such  a  high  estimation 
of  Christ  and  heaven,  that  you  would  not  leave  him  for  all  the 
world,  take  this  for  your  surest  sign.  And  if  you  have  but  so 
much  probability  or  hope  of  your  interest  in  him,  that  you  can 
think  of  God  as  one  that  loveth  you,  andean  be  thankful  to  Christ 
for  redeeming  you,  and  are  more  glad  in  these  hopes  of  your  inter- 
est in  Christ  and  glory  than  if  you  were  owner  of  all  the  world, 
take  this  for  a  happy  mercy,  and  a  high  consolation.  Yet  I  mean 
not  that  your  joy  in  Christ  will  be  always  so  sensible,  as  for  worldly 
things ;  but  it  will  be  more  rational,  solid  and  deeper  at  the  heart. 
And  that  you  may  know  by  this,  you  would  not  for  all  the  pleas- 
ures, honors,  or  profits  in  the  world,  be  in  the  same  case  as  once 
you  were,  (supposing  that  you  were  converted  since  you  had  the 
use  of  reason  and  memory,)  or  at  least  as  you  see  the  ungodly 
world  still  lie  in. 

3.  And  let  me  add  this :  commonly  those  that  have  the  highest 
passionate  joys,  have  the  saddest  lives ;  for  they  have,  withal,  the 
most  passionate  fears  and  sorrows.  Mark  it,  whether  you  find  not 
this  prove  true.  And  it  is  partly  from  God's  will  in  his  dispensa- 
tions ;  partly  from  their  own  necessities,  who  after  their  exaltations 
do  usually  need  a  prick  in  the  flesh,  and  a  minister  of  Satan  to  buf- 
fet them,  lest  they  be  exalted  above  measure ;  and  partly,  and 
most  commonly,  it  is  from  the  temperature  of  their  bodies.  Weak, 
passionate  women,  of  movable  spirits  and  strong  affections,  when 
they  love,  they  love  violently,  and  when  they  rejoice,  especially  in 
such  cases,  they  have  most  sensible  joys,  and  vi^hen  any  fears  arise, 
they  have  most  terrible  sorrows.  I  know  it  is  not  so  with  all  of 
that  sex ;  but  mark  the  same  people  that  usually  have  the  high- 
est joys,  and  see  whether  at  other  times  they  have  not  the  greatest 
troubles.  This  week  they  are  as  at  the  gates  of  heaven,  and  the 
next  as  at  the  doors  of  hell :  I  am  sure  with  many  it  is  so.  Yet  it 
need  not  be  so,  if  Christians  would  but  look  at  these  high  joys  as 
duties  to  be  endeavored,  and  mercies  to  be  valued ;  but  when  they 
will  needs  judge  of  their  state  by  them,  and  think  that  God  is  gone 
from  them  or  forsaken  them,  when  they  have  not  such  joys,  then  it 
leaves  them  in  terror  and  amazement ;  like  men  after  a  flash  of 
lightning,  that  are  left  more  sen^ble  of  the  darkness.     For  no  wise 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  337 

man  can  expect  that  such  joys  "should  be  a  Christian's  ordinary- 
state  ;  or  God  should  so  diet  us  with  continual  least.  It  would 
neither  suit  with  our  health,  nor  the  condition  of  this  pilgrimage. 
Live  therefore  on  your  peace  of  conscience  as  your  ordinary  diet ; 
when  this  is  wanting,  know  that  God  appointeth  you  a  fast  for  your 
heahh  ;  and  when  you  have  a  feast  of  high  joys,  feed  on  it  and  be 
thankful ;  but  when  they  are  taken  from  you,  gape  not  after  them  as 
the  disciples  did  after  Christ  at  his  ascension ;  but  return  thankfully 
to  your  ordinary  diet  of  peace.  And  remember  that  these  joys, 
which  are  now  taken  from  you,  may  so  return  again.  However, 
there  is  a  place  preparing  for  you,  where  your  joys  shall  be  full. 

Direct.  XXII.  My  next  direction  is  this:  'Spend  more  of  your 
time  and  care  about  your  duty  than  about  your  comforts ;  and  for 
the  exercise  and  increase  of  your  graces,  than  for  the  discovery  of 
them  :  and  when  you  have  done  all  that  you  can  for  assurance  and 
comfort,  you  shall  find  that  it  will  very  much  depend  on  your  actual 
obedience.' 

This  direction  is  of  as  great  importance  as  any  that  I  have  yet 
given  you  ;  but  I  shall  say  but  little  of  it,  because  I  have  spoke  of 
it  so  fully  already  in  my  Book  of  Rest,  Part  iii.  Chap.  8 — 11. 
My  reasons  for  what  I  here  assert  are  these :  1.  Duty  goeth,  in 
order  of  nature  and  time,  before  comfort,  as  the  precept  is  before 
the  promise:  comfort  is  part  of  the  reward,  and  therefore  necessari- 
ly supposeth  the  duty.  2.  Grace  makes  men  both  so  ingenious  and 
divine,  as  to  consider  God's  due  as  well  as  their  own  ;  and  wdiat 
they  should  do,  as  well  as  what  they  shall  have,  still  remembering 
that  our  works  cannot  merit  at  God's  hands.  3.  As  we  must  have 
grace  before  we  can  know  we  have  it,  so  oi'dinarily  we  must  have 
a  good  measure  of  grace,  before  we  can  so  clearly  discern  it  as  to 
be  certain  of  it.  Small  things  I  have  told  you  are  next  to  none, 
and  hardly  discernible  by  weak  eyes.  When  all  ways  in  the  world 
are  tried,  it  will  be  found  that  there  is  no  way  so  sure  for  a  doubt- 
ing soul  to  be  made  certain  of  the  truth  of  his  graces,  as  to  keep 
them  in  action  and  get  them  increased.  And  it  will  be  found  that 
there  is  no  one  cause  of  Christians  doubting  of  the  truth  ot  their 
faith,  love,  hope,  repentance,  humility,  &,c.,  so  great  or  so  common 
as  the  small  degree  of  these  graces.  Doth  not  the  very  language 
of  complaining  Christians  show  this  ?  One  saith,  '  I  have  no  faith  ; 
I  cannot  believe;  I  have  no  love  to  God;  I  have  no  delight  in 
duty.'  Another  saith, '  1  cannot  mourn  for  sin ;  my  heart  was  never 
broken ;  I  cannot  patiently  bear  an  injury  ;  I  have  no  courage  in 
opposing  sin,  &c.'  If  all  these  were  not  in  a  low  and  weak  de- 
gree, men  could  not  so  ordinarily  think  they  had  none.  A  lively, 
strong,  working  faith,  love,  zeal,  courage,  k,c.,  would  show  them- 
selves, as  do  the  highest  towers,  the  greatest  mountains,  the  srrong- 
V0I-.  I.  43 


338        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

est  winds,  the  greatest  flames,  which  will  force  an  observance  by 
iheir  gi-eatness  and  effects.  4.  Consider  also  that  it  is  more  pleas- 
ing to  God  to  see  his  people  study  him  in  his  will  directly,  than  to 
spend  the  first  and  chiefest  of  their  studies  about  the  attaining  of 
comforts  to  themselves,  5.  And  it  is  the  nature  of  grace  to  tend 
first  and  chiefly  toward  God ;  and  but  secondarily  to  be  the  evi- 
dence of  our  own  happiness.  We  have  faith  given  us  principally 
that  we  might  believe,  and  live  by  it  in  daily  applications  of  Christ: 
we  have  repentance,  that  it  might  break  us  off  from  sin,  and  bring 
us  back  to  God  ;  we  have  love,  that  we  might  love  God  and  our 
Redeemer,  his  saints,  and  laws,  and  ways ;  we  have  zeal,  that  we 
might  be  quickened  in  all  our  holy  duties  ;  and  we  have  obedience, 
to  keep  us  in  the  way  of  duty.  The  first  thing  we  have  to  do  with 
these  graces,  is  to  use  them  for  those  holy  ends  which  their  nature 
doth  express ;  and  then  the  discerning  of  them  that  we  may  have 
assurance,  followeth  after  this  both  in  time  and  dignity.  6.  And 
it  is  a  matter  of  far  greater  concernment  to  ourselves  to  seek  after 
the  obtaining  of  Christ  and  grace,  than  after  the  certain  knowledge 
that  we  have  them.  You  may  be  saved  though  you  never  get  as- 
surance here,  but  you  cannot  be  saved  without  Christ  and  grace. 
God  hath  not  made  assurance  the  condition  of  your  salvation.  It 
tends  indeed  exceedingly  to  your  comfort,  and  a  precious  mercy  it 
is ;  but  your  safety  lieth  not  on  it.  It  is  better  to  go  sorrowful  and 
doubting  to  heaven,  than  comfortably  to  hell.  First,  therefore,  ask 
what  is  the  condition  of  salvation  and  the  way  to  it,  and  then 
look  that  you  do  your  best  to  perform  it,  and  to  go  that  way, 
and  then  try  your  performance  in  its  season.  7.  Besides,  as  it 
is  a  work  of  far  greater  moment,  so  also  of  quicker  dispatch,  to 
believe  and  love  Christ  truly,  than  to  get  assurance  that  you  do 
truly  believe  and  love  him.  You  may  believe  immediately,  (by 
the  help  of  God's  grace,)  but  getting  assurance  of  it  may  be  the 
work  of  a  great  part  of  your  life.  Let  me  therefore  entreat  this 
one  thing  of  you,  that  when  you  feel  the  want  of  any  grace,  you 
would  not  presently  bend  all  your  thoughts  upon  the  inquiry, 
whether  it  be  true  or  no ;  but  rather  say  to  yourself,  '  I  see  trying 
is  a  great  and  difficult,  a  long  and  tedious  work  :  I  may  be  this 
many  years  about  it,  and  possibly  be  unresolved  still.  If  I  should 
conclude  that  I  have  no  grace,  I  may  be  mistaken ;  and  so  I  may 
if  I  think  that  I  have  it.  I  may  inquire  of  friends  and  ministers 
long,  and  yet  be  left  in  doubt ;  it  is  therefore  my  surest  way  to  seek 
presently  to  obtain  it,  if  I  have  it  not,  and  to  increase  it  if  I  have  it. 
And  I  am  certain  none  of  that  labor  will  be  lost;  to  get  more  is  the 
way  to  know  I  have  it.' 

But  perhaps  you  will    say,  '  How  should  I   get  more  grace  ? 
That  is  a  business  of  greater  difficulty  than  so.'     I  answer,  Under- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  339 

Stand  what  I  told  you  before,  that  as  the  beginning  of  grace  is  in 
your  understanding,  so  the  heart  and  hfe  of  it  is  in  your  will ;  and 
the  affections  and  passionate  part  are  but  the  fruits  and  branches. 
If  therefore  your  grace  be  weak,  it  is  chiefly  in  an  unwillingness  to 
yield  to  Christ,  and  his  word  and  Spirit.  Now,  how  should  an 
unwilhng  soul  be  made  willing?  Why, thus:  1.  Pray  constantly, 
as  you  are  able,  for  a  willing  mind,  and  yielding,  inclinable  heart  to 
Christ.  2.  Hear  constantly  those  preachers  that  bend  their  doc- 
trine to  inform  your  understanding  of  the  great  necessity  and  ex- 
cellency of  Christ,  and  grace,  and  glory;  and  to  persuade  the  will 
with  the  most  forcible  arguments.  A  persuading,  quickening 
ministry,  that  helps  to  excite  your  graces,  and  draw  up  your  heart 
to  Christ,  is  more  useful  than  they  that  spend  most  of  their  time  to 
persuade  you  of  your  sincerity,  and  give  you  comfort.  3.  But 
especially  lay  out  your  thoughts  more  in  the  most  serious  consider- 
ations of  those  things  which  tend  to  breed  and  feed  those  particu- 
lar graces  which  you  would  have  increased.  Objects  and  moving 
reasons  kept  much  upon  the  mind  by  serious  thoughts,  are  the 
great  engine  appointed  both  by  nature  and  by  grace,  to  turn  about 
the  soul  of  man.  Thoughts  are  to  your  soul  as  taking  in  the  air, 
and  meat  and  drink,  to  your  body.  Objects  considered  do  turn 
the  soul  into  their  own  nature.  Such  as  are  the  things  that  you 
most  think  and  consider  of,  (I  mean  in  pursuance  of  them,)  such 
will  you  be  yourself.  Consideration,  frequent  serious  considera- 
tion, is  God's  great  instrument  to  convert  the  soul,  and  to  confirm 
it ;  to  get  grace,  and  to  keep  it,  and  increase  it.  If  any  soul  perish 
for  want  of  grace,  it  is  ten  to  one  it  is  mainly  for  want  of  frequent 
and  serious  consideration.  That  the  most  of  us  do  languish  under 
such  weaknesses,  and  attain  to  small  degrees  of  grace,  is  for  want 
of  sober,  frequent  consideration.  We  know  not  how  great  things 
this  would  do,  if  it  were  but  faithfully  managed.  This,  then,  is  my 
advice  :  when  you  feel  so  great  a  want  of  faith  and  love,  (for  those 
be  the  main  graces  for  trial  and  use,)  that  you  doubt  whether  you 
have  any  or  none,  lay  by  those  doubting  thoughts  awhile,  and 
presently  go  and  set  yourself  to  consider  of  God's  truth,  good- 
ness, amiableness,  and  kind-heartedness  to  miserable,  unworthy 
sinners  ;  think  what  he  is  in  himself,  and  what  he  is  to  you,  and 
what  he  hath  done  for  you,  and  what  he  will  do  for  you  if  you 
will  but  consent.  And  then  think  of  the  vanity  of  all  the  childish 
pleasures  of  this  world  ;  how  soon  and  in  how  sad  a  case  they  will 
leave  us  ;  and  what  silly,  contemptible  things  they  are,  in  compari- 
son of  the  everlasting  glory  of  the  saints  !  By  that  time  you  have 
warmed  your  soul  a  little  with  such  serious  thoughts,  you  will  find 
your  faith  and  love  revive,  and  begin  to  stir  and  work  within  you  ; 
and  then  you  will  feel  that  you  have  faith  and  love.     Only  re- 


340        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

member  what  I  told  you  before,  that  the  heart  and  soul  of  saving 
faith  and  love  (supposing  a  belief  that  the  gospel  is  true)  is  all  in 
this  one  act  of  willingness  and  consent  to  have  Christ  as  he  is  offer- 
ed. Therefore  if  you  doubt  of  your  faith  and  love,  it  is  your  own 
willingness  that  you  doubt  of,  or  else  you  know  not  what  you  do. 
Now,  methinks,  if  you  took  but  a  sober  view  of  the  goodness  of 
God,  and  the  glory  of  heaven  on  one  side,  and  of  the  silly,  empty, 
worthless  world  on  the  other  side ;  and  then  ask  your  heart  which 
it  will  choose  ;  and  say  to  yourself,  '  O  my  soul,  the  God  of  glory 
offers  thee  thy  choice  of  dung  and  vanity  for  a  little  time,  or  of  the 
unconceivable  joys  of  heaven  forever :  which  wilt  thou  choose  ? ' 
I  say,  methinks  the  answer  of  your  soul  should  presently  resolve 
you,  that  you  do  believe,  and  that  you  love  God  above  this  pres- 
ent world !  For  if  you  can  choose  him  before  the  world,  then 
you  are  more  willing  of  him  than  the  world :  and  if  he  have  more 
of  your  will,-  for  certain  that  he  hath  more  of  your  faith  and  love. 
Use  therefore,  instead  of  doubting  of  your  faith,  to  believe  till  you 
put  it  out  of  doubt.  And  if  yet  you  doubt,  study  God  and  Christ, 
and  glory  yet  better,  and  keep  those  objects  by  consideration  close 
to  your  heart,  whose  nature  is  to  work  the  heart  to  faith  and  love. 
For  certainly  objects  have  a  mighty  power  on  the  soul ;  and  cer- 
tainly God,  and  Christ,  and  grace,  and  glory,  are  mighty  objects ; 
as  able  to  make  a  full  and  deep  impression  on  man's  soul,  as  any  in 
the  world;  and  if  they  work  not,  it  is  not  through  any  imperfection 
in  them,  but  because  they  be  not  well  applied,  and  by  considera- 
tion held  upon  the  heart,  that  they  may  work.  Perhaps  you  will 
say,  that  meditation  is  too  hard  a  work  for  you,  and  that  your  mem- 
ory is  so  weak  that  you  want  matter  to  meditate  upon ;  or,  if  you 
do  meditate  on  these,  yet  you  feel  no  great  motion  or  alteration  on 
your  heart.  To  this  I  answer ;  if  you  want  matter,  take  the  help 
of  some  book  that  will  afford  you  matter ;  and  if  you  want  life  in 
meditation,  peruse  the  most  quickening  writings  you  can  get.  If 
you  have  not  better  at  hand,  read  over  (and  seriously  consider  as 
you  read  it)  those  passages  in  the  end  of  my  Book  of  Rest,  which 
direct  you  in  the  exercises  of  these  graces,  and  give  you  some 
matter  for  your  meditation  to  work  upon :  and  remember,  that  if 
you  can  increase  the  resolved  choice  of  your  will,  you  increase 
your  love,  though  you  feel  not  those  affectionate  workings  that  you 
desire. 

Let  me  ask  you  now  whether  you  have  indeed  taken  this  course 
in  your  doubtings.  If  not,  how  unwisely  have  you  done  !  Doubt- 
ing is  no  cure,  but  actual  believing  and  loving  is  a  cure.  If  faith 
and  love  were  things  that  3'ou  would  fain  get,  but  cannot,  then  you 
had  cause  enough  to  fear,  and  to  lie  down  and  rise  up  in  trouble  of 
mind  from  one  vear  to  another.     But  it  is  no  such  matter;  it  is  so 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  341 

far  from  being  beyond  your  reach  or  power  to  have  these  graces, 
though  you  would,  that  they  themselves  are  nothing  else  but  your 
very  wilhngness ;  at  least  your  willingness  to  have  Christ  is  both 
your  faith  and  love.  It  may  be  said,  therefore,  to  be  in  the  power 
of  your  will,  which  is  nothing  else  but  that  actual  willingness  which 
you  have  already.  If,  therefore,  you  are  unwilling  to  have  him, 
what  makes  you  complain  for  want  of  the  sense  of  his  presence, 
and  the  assurance  of  his  love,  and  the  graces  of  his  Spirit,  as  you 
frequently  do  ?  It  is  strange  to  me,  that  people  should  make  so 
many  complaints  to  God  and  men,  and  spend  so  many  sad  hours 
in  fears  and  trouble,  and  all  for  want  of  that  which  they  would  not 
have.  If  you  be  not  willing,  be  willing  now.  If  you  say  you  can- 
not, do  as  I  have  before  directed  you.  One  hour's  sober,  serious 
thoughts  of  God  and  the  world,  of  Christ  and  Satan,  of  sin  and 
holiness,  of  heaven  and  hell,  and  the  differences  of  them,  will  do 
very  much  to  make  you  willing.  Yet  mistake  me  not ;  though  I 
say  you  may  have  Christ  if  you  will,  and  faith  and  love  if  you  will, 
and  no  man  can  truly  say,  '  I  would  be  glad  to  have  Christ  (as  he 
is  offered)  but  cannot ; '  yet  this  gladness,  consent,  or  willingness 
which  I  mention,  is  the  effect  of  the  special  work  of  the  Spirit,  and 
was  not  in  your  power  before  you  had  it ;  nor  is  it  yet  so  in  your 
power  as  to  believe,  without  God's  further  helping  you.  But  he 
that  hath  made  you  willing,  will  not  be  wanting  to  maintain  your 
willingness.  Though  I  will  say  to  any  man.  You  may  have  Christ 
if  you  will ;  yet  I.  will  say  to  no  man.  You  can  be  willing  of  your- 
self, or  without  the  special  grace  of  God. 

Nay,  let  me  further  ask;  Have  you  not  darkened,  buried,  or 
weakened  your  graces,  instead  of  exercising  and  increasing  them, 
even  then  when  you  complained  for  want  of  assurance  of  them  ? 
When  you  found  a  want  of  faith  and  love,  have  not  you  weakened 
them  more,  and  so  made  them  less  discernible  ?  Have  you  not 
fed  your  unbelief,  and  disputed  for  your  doubtings,  and  taken  Satan's 
part  against  yourself?  and  (which  is  far  worse)  have  you  never, 
through  these  doubtings,  entertained  hard  thoughts  of  God,  and 
presented  him  to  your  soul,  as  unwilling  to  show  you  mercy,  and 
in  an  unlovely,  dreadful,  hideous  shape,  fitter  to  affright  you  from 
him,  tlian  to  draw  you  to  him,  and  likelier  to  provoke  your  hatred 
than  your  love  ?  If  you  have  not  done  thus,  I  know  too  many 
troubled  souls  that  have.  And  if  you  have,  you  have  taken  a  very 
unlikely  way  to  get  assurance.  If  you  would  have  been  certain 
that  you  loved  God  in  sincerity,  you  should  have  labored  to  love 
him  more,  till  you  had  been  certain  ;  and  that  you  might  do  so, 
you  should  have  kept  better  thoughts  of  God  in  your  mind.  You 
will  hardly  love  him  while  you  think  of  him  as  evil,  or  at  least  as 
hurtful  to  you.     Never  forget  tliis  rule  which  I  lay  you  down  in 


342        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

the  beginning,  that  he  that  will  ever  love  God,  must  apprehend  him 
to  be  good.  And  the  more  large  and  deep  are  our  apprehensions  of 
his  goodness,  the  more  will  be  our  love.  For  such  as  God  appears 
to  be  to  men's  fixed  conceivings,  such  will  their  affections  be  to 
him.  For  the  fixed,  deep  conceptions,  or  apprehensions  of  the 
mind,  do  lead  about  the  soul,  and  guide  the  life. 

I  conclude,  therefore,  with  this  important  and  importunate  request 
to  you,  that.  Though  it  be  a  duty  necessary  in  its  time  and  place, 
to  examine  ourselves  concerning  our  sincerity,  in  our  several  graces 
and  duties  to  God ;  yet  be  sure  that  the  first  and  far  greater  part  of 
your  time,  and  pains,  and  care,  and  inquiries,  be  for  the  getting  and 
increasing  of  your  grace,  than  for  the  discerning  it ;  and  to  perform 
your  duty  rightly,  than  to  discern  your  right  performance.  And 
when  you  confer  with  ministers,  or  others,  that  may  teach  you,  see 
that  you  ask  ten  times  at  least,  '  How  should  I  get  or  increase  my 
faith,  my  love  to  Christ,  and  to  his  people  ? '  for  once  that  you 
ask,  '  How  shall  I  know  that  I  believe  or  love  ? '  Yet  so  contrary 
hath  been,  and  still  is,  the  practice  of  most  Christians  among  us  in 
this  point,  that  I  have  heard  it  twenty  times  asked,  '  How  shall  I 
know  that  I  truly  love  the  brethren  ? '  for  once  that  I  have  heard 
it  demanded,  '  How  should  I  bring  my  heart  to  love  them  better  ? ' 
And  the  like  I  may  say  of  love  to  Christ  himself. 

I  should  next  have  spoken  of  the  second  part  of  the  Direction, 
How  much  our  assurance  and  comfort  will  still  depend  on  our  ac- 
tual obedience.  But  this  will  fall  in,  in  handling  the  two  or  three 
next  following  Directions. 

Direct.  XXni.  My  next  advice  is  this: '  Think  not  those  doubts 
and  troubles  of  mind,  which  are  caused  and  continued  by  willful  dis- 
obedience, wdll  ever  be  well  healed  but  by  the  healing  of  that  dis- 
obedience ;  or  that  the  same  means  must  be  used,  and  will  suffice 
to  the  cure  of  such  troubles,  which  must  be  used,  and  will  suffice 
to  cure  the  troubles  of  a  tender  conscience,  and  of  an  obedient 
Christian,  whose  trouble  is  merely  through  mistakes  of  their  con- 
dition. ' 

I  will  begin  with  the  latter  part  of  this  Direction.  He  that  is 
troubled  upon  mere  mistakes,  may  be  quieted  upon  the  removal  of 
them.  If  he  understood  not  the  universal  extent  of  Christ's  satis- 
faction, or  of  the  covenant  or  conditional  grant  of  Christ  and  life  in 
him ;  and  if  uJDon  this  he  be  troubled,  as  thinking  that  he  is  not  in- 
cluded, the  convincing  him  of  his  error  may  suffice  to  the  removal 
of  his  trouble.  If  he  be  troubled  through  his  mistaking  the  nature 
of  true  faith,  or  true  love,  or  other  graces,  and  so  think  that  he  hath 
them  not,  when  he  hath  them,  the  discovery  of  his  error  may  be 
the  quieting  of  his  soul.  The  soul  that  is  troubled  upon  such  mis- 
takes, must  be  tenderly  dealt  with.     Much  more  they  that  are  dis- 


SPIRITUAL   PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  343 

quieted  by  groundless  fears,  or  too  deep  apprehensions  of  the  wrath 
or  justice  of  God,  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  of  their  unworthiness,  and 
for  want  of  fuller  apprehensions  of  the  loving  kindness  of  God,  and 
the  tender,  compassionate  nature  of  Christ.  We  can  scarce  han- 
dle such  souls  too  gently.  God  would  have  all  to  be  tenderly 
dealt  with,  that  are  tender  of  displeasing  and  dishonoring  him  by 
sin.  God's  own  language  may  teach  all  ministers  what  language 
we  should  use  to  such,  Isa,  Ivii.  15 — 21.  "  Thus  saith  the  high 
and  lofty  One,  that  inhabiteth  eternity,  whose  name  is  Holy ;  1 
dwell  in  the  high  and  holy  place,  with  him  also  that  is  of  a  contrite 
and  humble  spirit,  to  revive  the  spirit  of  the  humble,  and  to  revive 
the  heart  of  the  contrite  ones.  For  I  will  not  contend  forever, 
neither  will  I  be  always  wroth.  For  the  spirit  should  fail  before 
me,  and  the  souls  which  I  have  made,  &ic.  But  the  wicked  are 
like  the  troubled  sea  when  it  cannot  rest,  whose  waters  cast  up 
mire  and  dirt.  There  is  no  peace,  saith  my  God,  to  the  wicked." 
Much  more  tender  language  may  such  expect  from  Christ  in  the 
gospel,  where  is  contained  a  fuller  revelation  of  his  grace.  If 
Mary,  a  poor,  sinful  woman,  lie  weeping  at  his  feet,  and  washing 
them  with  her  tears,  he  hath  not  the  heart  to  spurn  her  away ;  but 
openly  proclaims  the  forgiveness  of  her  many  sins.  As  soon  as 
ever  the  heart  of  a  sinner  is  turned  from  his  sins,  the  heart  of  Christ 
is  turned  to  him.  The  very  sum  of  all  the  gospel  is  contained  in 
those  precious  words,  which  fully  express  this :  "  Come  unto  me, 
all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. 
Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me ;  for  I  am  meek  and 
lowly  in  heart ;  and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your  souls.  For  my 
yoke  is  easy  and  my  burden  is  light ;  "  Matt.  xi.  28 — 30.  When 
the  prodigal  (Luke  xv.  20.)  doth  once  come  home  to  his  father, 
with  sorrow  and  shame,  confessing  his  unworthiness,  yea,  but  re- 
solved to  confess  it,  his  father  preventeth  him,  and  sees  him  afar 
off,  and  stays  not  his  coming,  but  runs  and  meets  him.  And  when 
he  comes  to  him,  he  doth  not  upbraid  him  with  his  sins,  nor  say, 
Thou  rebel,  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me,  and  preferred  harlots  and 
luxury  before  me  ?  Nay,  he  doth  not  so  much  as  frown  upon  him, 
but  compassionately  falls  on  his  neck  and  kisseth  him.  Alas  !  God 
knows  that  a  poor  sinner  in  this  humbled,  troubled  case,  hath  bur- 
den enough  on  his  back  already,  and  indeed  more  than  he  is  able 
of  himself  to  bear.  The  sense  of  his  own  sinful  folly  and  misery 
is  burden  enough.  If  God  should  add  to  this  his  frowns  and  ter- 
rors, and  should  spurn  at  a  poor  sinner  that  lies  prostrate  at  his 
feet,  in  tears  or  terrors',  who,  then,  should  be  able  to  stand  before 
him,  or  to  look  him  in  the  face  ?  But  he  will  not  break  the  bruis- 
ed reed  ;  he  will  not  make  heavier  the  burden  of  a  sinner.  He 
calls  them  to  come  to  him  for  ease  and  rest,  and  not  to  oppress 


344  DIRECTIONS    FOU    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

them  or  kill  them  with  terrors.  We  have  not  a  king  like  Reho- 
boam,  that  will  multiply  our  pressures,  but  one  whose  office  it  is  to 
break  our  yokes,  and  loose  our  bonds,  and  set  us  free.  When  he 
was  a  preacher  himself  on  earth,  you  may  gather  what  doctrines  he 
preached  by  his  text,  which  he  chose  at  one  of  his  first  public  ser- 
mons ;  which,  as  you  may  find  in  Luke  iv.  18,  19.,  was  this :  "  The 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath  anointed  me  to 
preach  the  gospel  to  the  poor ;  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken- 
hearted ;  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recovering  of 
sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  hberty  them  that  are  bruised ;  to  preach 
the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord."  O,  if  a  poor,  bruised,  wounded 
soul  had  but  heard  this  sermon  from  his  Savior's  own  mouth,  what 
heart-meltings  would  it  have  caused !  What  pangs  of  love  would 
it  have  raised  in  him  !  \  ou  would  sure  have  believed  then  that  the 
Lord  is  gracious,  when  "all  (that  beard  him)  bare  him  witness, and 
wondered  at  the  gracious  words  that  proceeded  out  of  his  mouth  ;  " 
Luke  iv.  22.  I  would  desire  no  more  for  the  comfort  of  such  a 
soul,  than  to  see  such  a  sight,  and  feel  such  a  feeling,  as  the  poor 
penitent  prodigal  did,  when  he  found  himself  in  the  aiTOsof  his  fa- 
ther, and  felt  the  kisses  of  his  mouth,  and  was  surprised  so  unex- 
pectedly with  such  a  torrent  of  love.  The  soul  that  hath  once  seen 
and  felt  this,  would  never,  sure,  have  such  hard  and  doubtful 
thoughts  of  God,  except  through  ignorance  they  knew  not  whose 
arms  they  were  that  thus  embraced  them,  or  whose  voice  it  was 
that  thus  bespoke  them ;  or  unless  the  remembrance  of  it  were 
gone  out  of  their  minds.  You  see,  then,  what  is  God's  own  lan- 
guage to  humbled  penitents,  and  what  is  the  method  of  his  deal- 
ings with  them  ;  and  such  must  be  the  language  and  dealing  of  his 
ministers :  they  must  not  wound  when  Christ  would  heal ;  nor 
make  sad  the  heart  that  Christ  would  comfort,  and  would  not  have 
made  sad  ;  Ezek.  xiii.  22. 

But  will  this  means  serve  turn,  or  must  the  same  course  be 
taken  to  remove  the  sorrows  of  the  willfully  disobedient  ?  No : 
God  takes  another  course  himself,  and  prescribes  another  course 
to  his  ministers,  and  requires  another  course  from  the  sinner  him- 
self. But  still  remember  who  it  is  that  I  speak  of:  it  is  not  the 
ordinary,  unavoidable  infirmities  of  the  saints  that  I  speak  of;  such 
as  they  cannot  be  rid  of,  though  they  fain  would  ;  such  as  Paul 
speaks  of,  Rom.  vii.  19.  "The  good  that  I  would  do,  I  do  not;" 
and  "when  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me;"  and  Gal. 
V.  17.  "  The  flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,  &c.,  so  that  we  can- 
not do  the  things  we  would."  A  true  Christian  would  love  God 
more  perfectly,  and  delight  in  him  more  abundantly,  and  bring 
every  thought  in  subjection  to  his  will,  and  subdue  the  very  rem- 
uants  of  carnal  concupiscence,  that  there  should  be  no  stirrings  of 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  345 

lust  or  unjust  anger,  or  worldly  desires,  or  pride  within  him ;  and 
that  no  vain  word  might  pass  his  lips :  all  this  he  would  do,  but  he 
cannot.  Striving  against  these  unavoidable  infirmities,  is  con- 
quering. 

But  though  we  cannot  keep  under  every  motion  of  concupis- 
cence, we  can  forbear  the  execution.  Anger  will  stir  up  provoca- 
tions ;  but  we  may  restrain  it  in  degree,  that  it  set  us  not  in  a  flame, 
and  do  not  much  distemper  or  discompose  our  minds.  And  we 
can  forbid  our  tongues  all  raging,  furious,  or  abusive  words  in  our 
anger;  all  cursing,  swearing,  or  reproachful  speaking.  If  an  en- 
vious thought  against  one  brother  do  arise  in  our  hearts,  because 
he  is  preferred  before  us,  vve  may  hate  it  and  repress  it,  and  chide 
our  hearts  for  it,  and  command  our  tongues  to  speak  well  of  him, 
and  no  evil.  Some  pride  and  self-esteem  will  remain  and  be  stir- 
ring in  us,  do  what  we  can  ;  it  is  a  sin  so  deeply  rooted  in  our  cor- 
rupt natures.  But  yet' we  can  detest  it,  and  resist  it,  and  meet  it 
with  abhorrence  of  our  self-conceited  thoughts,  and  rejoicings  in 
our  own  reputations  and  fame,  and  inward  heart-risings  against  those 
that  undervalue  us,  and  stand  in  the  way  of  our  repute ;  and  we 
may  forbear  our  boasting  language,  and  our  contestings  for  our 
credit,  and  our  excuses  of  our  sins,  and  our  backbitings  and  secret 
defaming  of  those  that  cross  us  in  the  way  of  credit.  We  may  for- 
bear our  quarrels  and  estrangements,  and  dividings  from  our  breth- 
ren, and  stiff  insisting  on  our  own  conceits,  and  expecting  that  oth- 
ers should  make  our  judgments  their  rule,  and  say  and  do  as  we 
would  have  them,  and  all  dance  after  our  pipe  ;  all  which  are  the 
effects  of  inward  pride.  We  cannot,  while  we  are  on  earth,  be 
free  from  all  inordinate  love  of  the  world,  and  the  riches  and  hon- 
ors of  it ;  but  we  may  so  watch  against  and  repress  it,  as  that  it  shall 
neither  be  preferred  before  God,  nor  draw  us  to  unlawful  ways  of 
gain,  by  lying,  deceit,  and  overreaching  our  brethren  ;  by  stealing, 
unjust  or  unmerciful  dealings,  oppressing  the  poor,  and  insulting 
over  those  that  are  in  the  way  of  our  thriving,  and  crushing  them 
that  would  hinder  our  aspiring  designs,  and  treading  them  down 
that  will  not  bow  to  us,  and  taking  revenge  of  them  that  have  cross- 
ed or  disparaged  us,  or  cruelly  exacting  all  our  rights  and  debts  of 
the  poor,  and  squeezing  the  purses  of  subjects  or  tenants,  or  those 
that  we  bargain  with,  like  a  sponge,  as  long  as  any  thing  will  come 
out.  Yea,  we  may  so  far  subdue  bur  love  of  the  world,  as  that  it 
shall  not  hinder  us  from  being  merciful  to  the  poor,  compassionate 
to  our  servants  and  laborers,  and  bountiful  to  our  power  in  doing 
good  works  ;  nor  yet  shut  out  God's  service  from  our  families  and 
closets  ;  nor  rob  him  of  our  frequent,  affectionate  thoughts,  espe- 
cially on  the  Lord's  day.  So  for  sensuality,  or  the  pleasing  of  our 
flesh  more  immediately  ;  we  shall  never  on  earth  be  wholly  freed 
VOL.  I.  44 


346  DmecTioNs  for  getting  and  keeping 

from  Inordinate  motions,  and  temptations,  and  fleshly  desires,  and 
urgent  inclinations  and  solicitations  to  forbidden  things.  But  yet 
we  may  restrain  our  appetite  by  reason,  so  far  that  it  brings  us  not 
to  gluttony  and  drunkenness,  and  a  studying  for  our  bellies,  and  pam- 
pering of  our  flesh,  or  a  taking  care  for  it,  and  making  provision  to 
satisfy  its  lusts  ;  Rom,  xiii.  14.  We  may  forbear  the  obeying  it, 
in  excess  of  apparel,  in  indecent,  scandalous,  or  time-wasting  recrea- 
tions, in  uncleanness,  or  unchaste  speeches  or  behavior,  or  the  read- 
ing of  amorous  books  and  sonnets,  or  feeding  our  eyes  or  thoughts 
on  filthy  or  enticing  objects,  or  otherwise  willfully  blowing  the  fire 
of  lust.  So  also  for  the  performance  of  duty.  We  shall  never  in 
this  life  be  able  to  hear  or  read  so  diligently,  and  understandingly, 
or  affectionately ,  as  we  would  do ;  nor  to  remember  or  profit  by 
what  we  hear,  as  we  desire.  But  yet  we  can  bring  ourselves  to  the 
congregation,  and  not  prefer  our  ease,  or  business,  or  any  vain 
thing  before  God's  word  and  worship,  or  loathe  or  despise  it,  be- 
cause of  some  weakness  in  the  speaker.  And  we  may  in  a  great 
measure  restrain  our  thoughts  from  wandering,  and  force  ourselves 
to  attend  ;  and  labor  when  we  come  home  to  recall  it  to  mind. 
We  cannot  call  on  God  so  fervently,  believingly,  or  delightfully,  as 
we  would;  but  yet  we  may  do  it  as  sincerely  as  we  can,  and  do  it 
constantly.  We  cannot  instruct  our  children  and  servants,  and  re- 
prove or  exhort  our  neighbors,  with  that  boldness,  or  love,  and 
compassion,  and  discretion,  and  meet  expressions,  as  we  would: 
but  yet  we  may  do  it  faithfully  and  frequently  as  we  are  able. 

So  that  you  may  see  in  all  this,  what  sin  it  is  that  Paul  speaks 
of,  Rom.  vii.,  when  he  saith.  When  he  would  do  good,  evil  is  pres- 
ent with  him ;  and  that  he  is  led  captive  to  the  law  of  sin,  and 
serves  the  law  of  sin  with  his  flesh.  And  Gal.  iv.  17.  when  he 
saith,  "  We  cannot  do  the  things  that  we  would,"  he  speaks  not  of 
willful  sinning  or  gross  sin,  but  of  unavoidable  infirmities  ;  whereby 
also  we  are  too  often  drawn  into  a  committing  of  many  sins  which 
we  might  avoid,  (for  so  the  best  do.) 

And  because  you  may  often  read  and  hear  of  sins  of  infirmity,  as 
distinguished  from  other  sins,  let  me  here  give  you  notice,  that 
this  word  may  be  taken  in  several  senses,  and  that  there  are  three 
several  sorts  of  infirmity  in  the  godly. 

1 .  There  are  those  sins  which  a  man  cannot  avoid  though  he 
would  ;  which  are  in  the  gentlest  sense  called  sins  of  infii'mity. 
Here  note,  first,  that  Adam  had  none  such  ;  and  secondly,  that  the 
reason  of  them  is,  because,  1.  Our  reason  which  should  direct,  and 
our  wills  themselves  which  should  command,  are  both  imperfect. 
2.  And  our  faculties  that  should  be  commanded  and  directed,  are  by 
sin  grown  impotent  and  obstinate,  and  have  contracted  a  rebelling, 
disobedient  disposition.   •  3.  And  that  degree  of  grace,  which  the 


spirftl'ax  peace  anu  (..omfort.  347 

best  attain  to  in  this  life,  is  not  such  as  wholly  to  overcome  either 
the  imperfection  of  the  guiding  and  commanding  faculty,  or  the  re- 
bellion of  the  obeying  faculties :  otherwise  if  our  own  wills  were 
perfect,  and  the  rebellion  of  the  inferior  faculties  cured,  no  man 
could  then  say,  "The  good  that  I  would,  1  do  not,  and  the  evil 
that  I  would  not,  that  I  do."  For  the  will  W'ould  so  fully  command, 
that  all  would  obey,  and  itself  being  perfect,  all  would  be  perfect. 
And  therefore  in  heaven  it  is  and  will  be  so. 

I  know  philosophers  conclude,  that  all  acts  of  the  inferior  facul- 
ties are  but  acts  commanded  by  the  will ;  it  should  be  so,  I  con- 
fess. It  is  the  office  of  the  will  to  command,  and  the  understanding 
to  direct,  and  the  rest  to  obey.  But  in  our  state  of  sinful  imperfec- 
tion, the  soul  is  so  distempered  and  corrupted,  that  the  will  cannot 
fully  rule  those  faculties  that  it  should  rule ;  so  that  it  may  be  said, 
•^  I  would  forbear  sin  but  cannot.'  For,  1.  The  understanding  is 
become  a  dark,  imperfect  director.  2.  The  will  is  become  an 
imperfect  receiver  of  ihe  understanding's  directions ;  yea,  an  op- 
poser,  as  being  tainted  with  the  neighborhood  of  a  distempered 
sense.  3.  When  the  will  is  rectified  by  grace,  it  is  but  in  part ; 
and  therefore  when  Paul  or  any  holy  man  saith,  '  I  would  do 
good,'  and  '  I  would  not  do  evil,'  they  mean  it  not  of  a  perfect 
willingness,  but  of  a  sincere  ;  to  wit,  that  this  is  the  main  bent  of 
their  will,  and  the  resolved  prevalent  act  of  it  is  for  good.  4.  When 
the  will  doth  command,  yet  the  commanded  faculties  do  refuse  to 
obey,  througli  an  unfitness  of  impotency  and  corruption.  1.  The 
will  hath  but  an  imperfect  command  of  the  understanding.  (I 
mean  as  to  the  exercise  of  the  act,  in  which  respect  it  commandetn 
it,  and  not  as  to  the  specification  of  the  act.)  A  man  may  tmly 
and  strongly  desire  to  know  more,  and  apprehend  things  more 
clearly,  and  yet  cannot.  2.  The  will  hath  but  an  imperfect  com- 
mand of  the  fancy  or  thoughts ;  so  that  a  man  may  truly  say,  '  I 
would  think  more  frequently,  more  intensely,  and  more  orderly  of 
good,  and  less  of  vanity,  and  yet  I  cannot.'  For  objects  and  pas- 
sions may  force  the  fancy  and  cogitations  in  some  degree.  3.  The 
will  hath  but  an  imperfect  command  of  the  passions ;  so  that  a 
man  may  truly  say,  'I  would  not  be  troubled,  or  afraid,  or  grieved, 
or  disquieted,  or  angry,  but  I  cannot  choose;  and  I  would  mouni 
more  for  sin,  and  be  more  afraid  of  sinning,  and  of  God's  displeas- 
vn-e,  and  more  zealous  for  God,  and  more  delighted  in  him,  and 
joy  more  in  holy  things,  but  I  cannot.'  For  these  passions  lie  so 
open  to  the  assault  of  objects,  (having  the  senses  for  their  inlet, 
and  the  movable  spirits  for  their  seat  or  instruments,)  that  even 
when  the  will  commands  them  one  way,  an  object  may  force  them 
in  part  against  the  will's  command,  as  we  find  sensibly  in  cases  of 
fear,  and  sorrow  or  anger,  whjch  we  can  force  a  man  to  whether 


348  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

he  will  or  no.  And  if  there  be  no  contradicting  object,  yet  cannot 
the  will  excite  these  passions  to  what  height  it  shall  command  ;  for 
their  motion  depends  as  much  (and  more)  on  the  lively  manner  of 
representing  the  object,  and  the  working  nature  and  weight  of  the 
object  represented,  and  upon  the  heat  and  mobihty  of  the  spirits, 
and  temperature  of  the  body,  as  upon  the  command  of  the  will. 
4.  Much  less  can  the  will  command  out  all  vicious  habits,  and  sen- 
sual or  corrupt  inclinations ;  and  therefore  a  true  Christian  may 
well  say  in  respect  of  these,  that  he  would  be  more  holy,  heavenly, 
and  disposed  to  good,  and  less  to  evil,  but  he  cannot.  5.  As  for 
complacency  and  displacency,  liking  or  disliking,  love  and  hatred, 
so  far  as  they  are  passions,  1  have  spoke  of  them  before :  but  scr 
far  as  they  are  the  immediate  acts  of  the  will  (willing  and  nilling) 
they  are  not  properly  said  to  be  commanded  by  it,  but  elicited,  or 
acted  by  it ;  (wherein,  how  far  it  hath  power  is  a  most  noble  ques- 
tion, but  unfit  for  this  place  or  your  capacity.)  And  thus  you  see 
that  there  are  many  acts  of  the  soul,  beside  habits,  which  the  will 
cannot  now  perfectly  command  ;  and  so  a  Christian  cannot  be  what 
he  would  be,  nor  do  the  things  that  he  would.  And  these  are  the 
first  sort  of  sins  of  infirmity. 

If  you  say,  '  Sure  these  can  be  no  sins,  because  we  are  not  will- 
ing of  them,  and  there  is  no  more  sin  than  there  is  will  in  it ;  I 
answer,  1.  We  were  in  Adam  willing  of  that  sin  which  caused 
them.  2.  We  are  in  some  degree  inclining  in  our  wills  to  sin, 
though  God  have  that  prevalent  part  and  determination,  which  in 
comparative  cases  doth  denominate  them.  3.  The  understanding 
and  will  may  be  most  heinously  guilty  where  they  do  not  consent, 
in  that  they  do  not  more  strongly  dissent,  and  more  potently  and 
rulingly  command  all  the  subject  faculties  ;  and  so  a  negation  of 
the  will's  act,  or  of  such  a  degree  of  it  as  is  necessary  to  the  regi- 
ment of  the  sensual  part,  is  a  deep  guilt  and  great  offence  ;  and  it 
may  be  said,  that  there  is  will  in  this  sin.  It  is  morally  or  reputa- 
tively  voluntary,  though  not  naturally ;  because  the  will  doth  not 
its  office  when  it  should  ;  as  a  man  is  guilty  of  voluntary  murder 
of  his  own  child,  that  stands  by  and  seeth  his  servant  kill  him,  and 
doth  not  do  his  best  to  hinder  him.  I  would  this  were  better  un- 
derstood by  some  divines  ;  for  I  think  that  the  commonest  guilt  of 
the  reason  and  will  in  our  actual  sins,  is  by  omission  of  the  exercise 
of  their  authority  to  hinder  it ;  and  that  most  sins  are  more  brutish, 
as  to  the  true  efficient  cause,  than  many  imagine ;  and  yet  they 
are  human  or  moral  acts  too,  and  the  soul  nevertheless  guilty  ; 
because  the  commanding  faculties  performed  not  their  office,  and 
so  are  the  moral  or  imputative  causes,  and  so  the  great  culpable 
causes  of  the  fact.  But  I  am  drawn  nearer  to  philosophy  and 
points  beyond  your  reach  than  I  intended  ;  a  fault  that  I  must  be 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  349 

Still  resisting  in  all  my  writings,  being  upon  every  occurring  diffi- 
culty carried  to  forget  my  subject,  and  tbe  capacity  of  tlie  mean- 
est to  whom  I  write  :  but  what  you  understand  not,  pass  over,  and 
go  to  the  next. 

2.  The  second  kind  of  sins  of  infirmity,  are,  The  smaller  sort  ot 
sins,  which  we  may  forbear  if  we  will ;  that  is,  if  we  be  actually, 
though  not  perfectly,  yet  prevalently  willing  ;  or  if  our  will  be  de- 
termined to  forbear  them  ;  or  if  the  chief  part  of  the  will  actually 
be  for  such  forbearance.  The  first  sort  are  called  sins  of  infirmity 
in  an  absolute  sense.  These  last,  I  call  sins  of  infirmity  in  both 
an  absolute  and  comparative  sense  ;  that  is,  both  as  they  proceed 
from  our  inward  corruption,  which,  through  the  weakness  of  the 
soul,  having  but  little  grace,  is  not  fully  restrained,  and  also  as  they 
are  compared  with  gross  sins ;  and  so  we  may  call  idle  words,  and 
rash  expressions  in  our  haste,  and  such  like,  sins  of  infirmity,  in  com- 
parison of  murder,  perjury,  or  the  like  gross  sins,  which  we  com- 
monly call  crimes  or  wickedness,  when  the  former  we  use  to  call 
but  faults.  These  infirmities  are  they  which  the  Papists  (and  some 
learned  divines  of  our  own,  as  Rob.  Baronius  in  his  excellent  trac- 
tate "  De  peccat.  Mortali  et  Veniali  ")  do  call  venial  sins  ;  some 
of  them  in  a  fair  and  honest  sense,  viz.  because  they  are  such 
sins  as  a  true  Christian  may  live  and  die  in,  though  not  unre- 
pented  or  unresisted,  yet  not  subdued  so  far  as  to  forsake  or  cease 
from  the  practice  of  them,  and  yet  they  are  pardoned.  But  other 
Papists  call  them  venial  sins  in  a  wicked  sense,  as  if  they  needed 
no  pardon  and  deserved  not  eternal  punishment.  (And  why 
should  they  call  them  venial  if  they  need  not  pardon  ?)  A  justi- 
fied man  liveth  in  the  daily  practice  of  some  vain  thoughts,  or  the 
frequent  commission  of  some  other  sins,  which  by  his  utmost  dili- 
gence he  might  restrain ;  but  he  liveth  not  in  the  frequent  practice 
of  adultery,  drunkenness,  false-witnessing,  slandering,  hating  his 
brother,  &tc. 

Yet  observe,  that  though  the  fore-mentioned  lesser  sins  are  called 
infirmities,  in  regard  of  the  matter  of  them,  yet  they  may  be  so 
committed  in  regard  of  the  end  and  manner  of  them,  as  may  make 
them  crimes,  or  gross  sins.  As  for  example,  if  one  should  use  idle 
words  v/illfuUy,  resolvedly,  without  restraint,  reluctance,  or  tender- 
ness of  conscience,  this  w^ere  gross  sinning ;  or  the  nearer  it  comes 
to  this,  and  the  more  willfulness,  or  neglect,  or  evil  ends  there  is  in 
the  smallest  forbidden  action,  the  worse  it  is,  and  the  grosser.  And 
observe,  (of  whicli  more  anon,)  that  the  true  bounds  or  difference 
between  gross  sins,  and  those  lesser  faults,  which  we  call  infirmi- 
ties, cannot  be  given,  (I  think  by  any  man,  I  am  sure  not  by  me,) 
either  as  to  the  act  itself,  to  say,  just  what  acts  are  gross  sins,  and 
what  not ;  or  else  as  to  the  mannci  of  committing  them  ;  as  to  say, 


350        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

just  how  much  of  the  will  must  go  to  make  a  gross  sin ;  or  just 
how  far  a  man  may  proceed  in  the  degree  of  evil  intents ;  or  how 
far  in  the  frequency  of  sinning,  before  it  must  be  called  a  gross 
sin. 

3.  The  third  sort  of  sins,  which  may  be  called  sins  of  infirmity, 
are  these  last-mentioned  gross  sins  themselves,  so  far  as  they  are 
found  in  the  regenerate  :  these  are  gi'oss  sins  put  in  opposition  to 
the  former  sort  of  infirmities ;  but  our  divines  use  to  call  thern  all 
sms  of  infirmity,  in  opposition  to  the  sins  of  unbelievers,  who  are 
utterly  unholy.  And  they  call  them  sins  of  infirmity,  1 .  Because 
the  person  that  committed  them  is  not  dead  in  sins,  as  the  unre- 
generate  are,  but  only  diseased,  wounded,  and  infirm.  2.  Because 
that  they  are  not  committed  with  so  full  consent  of  will  as  those 
of  the  unregenerate  are ;  but  only  after  much  striving,  or  at  least 
contrary  to  habitual  resolutions,  though  not  against  actual. 

Here  we  are  in  very  great  difficulties,  and  full  of  controversies : 
some  say  that  these  gross  sins  do  extinguish  true  grace,  and  are  in- 
consistent with  it ;  and  that  David  and  Peter  were  out  of  the  state 
of  gi'ace  till  they  did  again  repent.  Others  say,  that  they  were  in 
the  state  of  grace,  and  not  at  all  so  liable  to  condemnation,  but  that 
if  they  had  died  in  the  act,  they  had  been  saved,  because  "  there 
is  no  condemnation  to  them  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus ; "  and  that 
therefore  all  the  sins  of  believers  are  alike  sin's  of  infirmity,  pardon- 
ed on  the  same  terms ;  and  therefore,  as  a  rash  word  may  be  par- 
doned without  a  particular  repentance,  so  possibly  may  these  gross 
sins.  To  others  this  seems  dangerous  and  contrary  to  Scripture, 
and  therefore  they  would  fain  find  out  a  way  between  both ;  but 
how  to  do  it  clearly  and  satisfactorily  is  not  easy,  (at  least  to  me, 
who  have  been  long  upon  it,  but  am  yet  much  in  the  dark  in  it.) 
I  think  it  is  plain  that  such  persons  are  not  totally  unsanctified  by 
their  sin  ;  I  believe  that  Christ's  interest  is  habitually  more  in  their 
wills  than  is  the  interest  of  the  flesh  or  world,  at  that  very  time 
when  they  are  sinning,  and  so  Christ's  interest  is  least  as  to  their 
actual  willing ;  and  so  sin  prevaileth  for  that  time  against  the  act 
of  their  faith  and  love,  but  not  wholly  against  the  prevalent  part  of 
the  habit.  And  therefore  when  the  shaking  wind  of  that  stormy 
temptation  is  over,  the  soul  will  retuni  to  Christ  by  repentance, 
love,  and  renewed  obedience.  But  then  to  know  what  state  he  is 
relatively  in,  this  \yhile,  as  to  his  justification,  and  reconciliation, 
and  right  to  glory,  is  the  point  of  exceeding  difliculty.  Whether 
as  we  distinguish  of  habitual  faith,  and  love,  and  obedience,  which 
he  hath  not  lost ;  and  actual,  which  he  hatli  lost ;  so  we  must  make 
some  answerable  distinction  of  justification,  (habitual  and  actual  it 
cannot  be,)  into  virtual  justification,  which  he  hath  not  lost,  and 
actual  justification,  which  he  hath  lost ;  or  into  plenary  justification, 


SPIRITUAL   PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  351 

(which  he  hath  not,)  and  imperfect  justification,  wanting  a  further 
act  to  make  it  plenary,  (which  may  remain.)  But  still  it  will  be 
more  difficult  to  show  punctually  what  this  imperfect  or  virtual 
justification  is ;  and  most  difficult  to  show,  whether  with  the  loss 
of  actual  plenary  justification,  and  the  loss  of  a  plenary  right  to 
heaven,  a  man's  salvation  may  consist ;  that  is,  whether  if  he  should 
die  in  that  condition,  he  should  be  saved  or  condemned  ?  Or  if  it 
be  said,  that  he  shall  certainly  repent,  1.  Yet  such  a  supposition 
may  be  put,  while  he  yet  repenteth  not ;  for  the  inquiry  into  his 
state,  how  far  there  is  any  intercession  of  his  justification,  pardon, 
adoption,  or  right  to  salvation?  2.  And  whether  it  can  fully  be 
proved  that  it  is  impossible,  (or  that  which  never  was  or  shall  be,) 
for  a  regenerate  man  to  die  in  the  very  act  of  a  gross  sin,  (as  self- 
murder,  or  the  like?)  For  my  part,  I  think  God  hath  purposely 
left  us  here  in  the  dark,  that  we  may  not  be  too  bold  in  sinning^ 
but  may  know  that  whether  the  gross  sins  of  believers  be  such  as 
destroy  their  justification  and  the  right  to  glory,  prevalently  or  not, 
yet  certainly  they  leave  them  in  the  dark,  as  to  any  certainty  of 
their  justification  or  salvation. 

And  then  more  dark  is  it  and  impossible  to  discover  how  far  a 
man  may  go  in  these  grosser  sins,  and  yet  have  the  prevalent 
habits  of  grace.  As  to  the  former  question  about  the  intercession 
of  justification,  I  am  somewhat  inclinable  to  think,  that  the  habit 
of  faith  hath  more  to  do  in  our  justification  than  I  have  formerly 
thought,  and  may  as  properly  be  said  to  be  the  condition  as  the 
act ;  and  that  as  long  as  a  man  is  (in  a  prevalent  degree)  habitu- 
ally a  believer,  he  is  not  only  imperfectly  and  virtually  justified,  but 
so  far  actually  justified,  that  he  should  be  saved,  though  he  were 
cut  off  before  he  actually  repent ;  and  that  he,  being  already  habit- 
ually penitent,  having  a  hatred  of  all  sin  as  sin,  should  be  saved, 
if  mere  want  of  opportunity  do  the  act;  and  that  only  those 
sins  do  prevent,  bring  a  man  into  a  state  of  condemnation,  prove 
him  in  such,  which  consist  not  with  the  habitual  preeminence  of 
Christ's  interest  in  our  souls,  above  the  uiterest  of  the  flesh  and 
world ;  and  that  David's  and  Peter's  were  such  as  did  consist  with 
the  prei'minence  of  Christ's  interest  in  the  habit.  But  withal, 
that  such  gross  sins  must  needs  be  observable,  and  so  the  soul  that 
is  guilty  doth  ordinarily  know  its  guilt,  yea,  and  think  of  it ;  and 
that  it  is  inconsistent  with  this  habitual  repentance,  not  to  repent 
actually,  as  soon  as  time  is  afforded,  and  the  violence  of  passion  is 
so  kr  allayed  as  that  the  soul  may  recollect  itself,  and  reason  have 
its  free  use ;  and  that  he  that  hath  this  leisure  and  opportunity  for 
ihe  free  use  of  reason,  and  yet  doth  not  repent,  it  is  a  sign  that  the 
interest  of  the  flesh  is  habitually,  as  well  as  actually,  stronger  than 
Christ's  interest  in  him.     1  say,  in  this  doubtful  case,  I  am  most 


352        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

inclining  to  judge  thus :  but  as  I  would  have  no  man  take  this  as 
my  resolved  judgment,  much  less  a  certain  truth,  and  least  of  all, 
to  venture  on  sin  and  impenitency  ever  the  more  for  such  a  doubt- 
ful opinion,  which  doth  not  conclude  him  to  be  certainly  unjusti- 
fied ;  so  I  am  utterly  ignorant  both  how  long  sensual  passions  may 
possibly  rage,  and  keep  the  soul  from  sober  consideration,  or  how 
far  they  may  interpose  in  the  very  time  of  consideration,  and  frus- 
trate it,  and  prevail  against  it,  and  so  keep  the  sinner  from  actual 
repenting,  or,  at  least,  from  a  full,  ingenuous  acknowledgment  and 
bewailing  of  the  sin,  which  is  necessary  to  full  repentance ;  and 
how  long  repentance  may  be  so  far  stifled,  as  to  remain  only  in 
some  inward  grudgings  of  conscience,  and  trouble  of  mind,  hinder- 
ed from  breaking  out  into  free  confession,  (which  seemeth  to  have 
been  David's  case  long.)  Nay,  it  is  impossible  to  know  just  how 
long  a  man  may  live  in  the  very  practice  of  such  gross  sin,  before 
Christ's  habitual  interest  above  the  flesh  be  either  overthrown,  or 
proved  not  to  be  there  ;  and  how  oft  a  man  that  hath  true  grace 
may  commit  such  sins :  these  things  are  undiscemible,  besides  that 
none  can  punctually  define  a  gross  sin,  so  as  to  exclude  every  de- 
gree of  infirmities,  and  include  every  degree  of  such  gross  sin. 

Perhaps  you  will  marvel  why  I  run  so  far  in  this  point :  it  is 
both  to  give  you  as  much  light  as  I  can,  what  sins  they  be  which 
are  to  be  called  infirmities,  and  so  what  sins  they  be  that  do  forbid 
that  gentle,  comforting  way  of  cure,  when  the  soul  is  troubled  for 
them,  which  must  be  used  with  those  that  are  troubled  more  than 
needs,  or  upon  mistakes ;  and  also  to  convince  you  of  this  weighty 
truth.  That  our  comfort,  yea,  and  assurance,  hath  a  great  depen- 
dence on  our  actual  obedience ;  yea,  so  great,  that  the  least  obedient 
sort  of  sincere  Christians  cannot,  by  ordinary  means,  have  any  as- 
surance ;  and  the  most  obedient  (if  other  necessaries  concur)  will 
have  the  most  assurance  ;  and  for  the  middle  sort,  their  assurance 
will  rise  or  fall,  ordinarily  with  their  obedience,  so  that  there  is  no 
way  to  comfort  such  offending  Christians,  but  by  reducing  them  to 
fuller  obedience  by  faith  and  repentance,  that  so  the  evidences  of 
their  justification  may  be  clear,  and  the  great  impediments  of  their 
assurance  and  comfort  be  removed. 

This  I  will  yet  make  clearer  to  you  by  its  reasons,  and  then  tell 
you  how  to  apply  it  to  yourself. 

1.  No  man  can  be  sure  of  his  salvation  or  justification,  but  he 
that  is  sure  of  his  true  faith  and  love.  And  no  man  can  be  sure 
of  his  true  faith  and  love,  but  he  that  is  sure  of  the  sincerity  of 
his  obedience.  For  true  faith  doth  ever  take  God  for  our  great 
Sovereign,  and  Christ  for  our  Lord  Redeemer,  and  containeth  a 
covenant-delivery  of  a  man's  self  to  God  and  the  Redeemer,  to 
be  ruled  by  him,  as  a  subject,  child,  servant,  and  spouse.     This 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    ANt>    COMFORT.  353 

is  not  done  sincerely  and  savincjly,  unless  there  be  an  actual  and 
habitual  resolution  to  obey  God  and  the  Redeemer,  before  all  crea- 
tures, and  against  all  temptations  that  would  draw  us  from  him. 
To  obey  Christ  a  little  and  the  flesh  more,  is  no  true  obedience  :  if 
the  flesh  can  do  more  with  us  to  draw  us  to  sin,  than  faith  and 
obedience  do  to  keep  us  from  sin,  ordinarily,  this  is  no  true  faith 
or  obedience.  If  Christ  have  not  the  sovereignty  in  the  soul,  and 
his  interest  be  not  the  most  predominant  and  potent,  we  are  no 
true  believers.  Now,  it  is  plain,  that  the  interest  of  the  world  and 
flesh  doth  actually  prevail,  when  a  man  is  actually  committing  a 
known  sin,  and  omitting  a  known  duty ;  and  then  it  is  certain  that 
habits  are  known  but, by  the  acts.  And  therefore  it  must  needs 
be  that  the  soid  that  most  sinneth,  must  needs  be  most  in  doubt 
whether  the  interest  of  Christ  or  the  flesh  be  predominant,  and  so 
whether  his  obedience  be  tme  or  no ;  and  so  whether  he  did  sin- 
cerely take  Christ  for  his  Sovereign  ;  and  that  is,  whether  he  be  a 
true  believer  ;  for  when  a  man  is  inquiring  into  the  state  of  his  soul, 
whether  he  do  subject  himself  to  Christ  as  his  only  Sovereign,  and 
whether  the  authority  and  love  of  Christ  will  do  more  with  him 
than  the  temptations  of  the  world,  flesh  and  devil,  he  hath  no  way 
to  be  resolved  but  by  feeling  the  pulse  of  his  own  will.  And  if  he 
say,  '  I  am  willing  to  obey  Christ  before  the  flesh,'  and  yet  do 
actually  live  in  an  obedience  to  the  flesh  before  Christ,  he  is  de- 
ceived in  his  own  will ;  for  this  is  no  saving  willingness.  A  wick- 
ed man  may.  have  some  will  to  obey  Christ  principally  ;  but  having 
more  will  to  the  contrary,  viz.  to  please  the  flesh  before  Christ, 
therefore  he  is  wicked  still;  so  that  you  see  in  our  self-examination, 
the  business  is  for  the  most  part  finally  resolved  into  our  sincere 
actual  obedience.  For  thus  we  proceed  ;  we  first  find.  He  that 
believeth  and  loveth  Christ  sincerely,  shall  be  saved.  Then  we 
proceed",  He  that  believeth  sincerely  taketh  Christ  for  his  Sove- 
reign. Then,  He  that  truly  taketh  Christ  for  his  Sovereign,  doth 
truly  resolve  to  obey  him  and  his  laws,  before  the  world,  flesh,  or 
devil.  Then,  He  that  truly  resolveth  thus  to  obey  Christ  before 
all,  doth  sincerely  perform  his  resolution,  and  doth  so  obey  him. 
For  that  is  no  true  resolution  ordinarily,  that  never  comes  to  per- 
formance. And  here  we  are  cast  unavoidably  to  try  whether  we 
do  perform  our  resolutions  by  actual  obedience,  before  we  can  sit 
down  with  settled  peace  ;  much  more  before  we  get  assurance. 
Now,  those  that  are  diligent  and  careful  in  obeying,  and  have  great- 
est conquest  over  their  corruptions,  and  do  most  seldom  yield  to 
temptations,  but  do  most  notably  and  frequently  conquer  them, — 
these  have  the  clearest  discovery  of  the  performance  of  their  reso- 
lutions by  obedience,  and  consequently  the  fullest  assurance:  but 
they  that  are  oftenest  overcome  by  temptations,  and  yield  most  to 

VOL,    I  15 


354        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

sin,  and  live  most  disobediently,  must  needs  be  furthest  from  as- 
surance of  the  sincerity  of  their  obedience,  and  consequently  of 
their  salvation. 

2.  God  himself  hath  plainly  made  our  actual  obedience  not 
only  a  sign  of  a  true  faith,  but  a  secondary  part  of  the  condition  of 
our  salvation,  as  promised  in  the  new  covenant.  And  therefore  it 
is  as  impossible  to  be  saved  without  it,  as  without  faith,  supposmg 
that  the  person  have  opportunity  to  obey,  in  which  case  only  it  is 
made  necessary,  as  a  condition.  This  I  will  but  cite  several  scrip- 
tures to  prove,  and  leave  you  to  pemse  them  if  you  be  unsatisfied  ; 
Rom.  viii.  1 — 14.  They  that  are  in  Christ  Jesus,  are  they  that 
walk  not  after  the  flesh,  but  after  the  Spirit.  "  If  ye  hve  after 
the  flesh,  ye  shall  die;  but  if  ye  by  the  Spirit  do  mortify  the  deeds 
of  the  body,  ye  shall  live."  "  Blessed  are  they  that  do  his  com- 
mandments, that  they  may  have  right  to  the  tree  of.  life,  and  may 
enter  in  by  the  gate  into  the  city  ;"  Rev.  xxii.  14.  "  He  is  be- 
come the  Author  of  eternal  salvation  to  all  them  that  obey  him  ;" 
Heb.  V.  9..  "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  for  it  is  easy,  and  my 
burden,  for  it  is  light.  Learn  of  me  to  be  meek  and  lowly,  he, 
and  ye  shall  find  rest,"  he. ;  Matt.  xi.  28 — 30.  John  x\d.  27. 
Luke  xiii.  24.  Phil.  ii.  12.  Rom.  ii.  7.  10.  John  xv.  12.  17. 
xii.  21.  Matt.  v.  44.  Luke  vi.  27.  35.  Prov.  viii.  17.  21. 
Matt.  X.  37.  1  Tim.  vi.  18,  19.  2  Tim.  ii.  5.  12.  Matt.  xxv. 
41,  42.  James  ii.  21—24.  26.  i.  22.  ii.  5.  Prov.  i.  23. 
xxviii.  13.  Luke  xiii.  3.  5.  Matt.  xii.  37.  xi.  25,  26.  vi.  12. 
14,  15.  1  John  i.  9.  Acts  viii.  22.  iii.  19.  xxii.  16.  Luke 
vi.  37.  1  Pet.  iv.  18.  i.  2.  22.  Rom.  vi.  16.;  with  abundance 
more  the  like.  Now,  when  a  poor  sinner  that  hath  oft  fallen  into 
drunkenness,  railing,  strife,  envying,  he,  shall  read  that  these  are 
the  works  of  the  flesh,  and  that  for  these  things'  sake  the  wrath  of 
God  cometh  on  the  children  of  disobedience  ;  and  that  eveVy  man 
shall  be  judged  according  to  his  works,  and  according  to  what  he 
hath  done  in  the  flesh  ;  and  that  they  that  do  such  things  shall  not 
inherit  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  it  cannot  be  but  that  his  assurance  of 
salvation  must  needs  have  so  great  a  dependence  on  his  obedience, 
as  that  these  sins  will  diminish  it.  When  he  reads,  Rom.  vi.  16., 
"  His  servants  ye  are  to  whom  ye  obey,  whether  of  sin  unto  death, 
or  of  obedience  unto  righteousness,"  he  must  needs  think,  how 
such  a  time,  and  such  a  time,  he  obeyed  sin  ;  and  the  oftener  and 
the  more  willfully  he  did  it,  the  more  doubtful  will  his  case  be ; 
especially  if  he  be  yet  in  a  sinful  course,  which  he  might  avoid, 
whether  of  gross  sin,  or  of  any  willful  sin,  it  cannot  be  but  this 
will  obscure  the  evidence  of  his  obedience.  Men  cannot  judge 
beyond  evidence ;  and  he  that  hath  not  the  evidence  of  his  true 
obedience,  hath  not  the  evidence  of  the  sincerity  of  his  faith. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT,  355- 

3.  Moreover,  assurance  and  comfort  are  God's  gifts,  and  vviili- 
out  his  crracious  aid  we  cannot  attain  them.  But  God  will  not  grive 
such  gifts  to  his  children,  while  they  stand  out  in  disobedience,  but 
when  they  carefully  please  him.     Paternal  justice  requires  this. 

4.  And  it  would  do  them  abundance  of  hurt,  and  God  much 
dishonor,  if  he  should  either  tell  them  just  how  oft,  or  how  far 
they  may  sin,  and  yet  be  saved;  or  yet  should  keep  up  their  peace 
and  comforts,  as  well  in  their  greatest  disobedience,  as  in  their 
tenderest  careful  walking  with  him.  But  these  things  I  spoke  of 
before,  and  formerly  elsewhere. 

You  see  then,,  that  though  some  obedient,  tender  Christians 
may  yet,  on  several  occasions,  be  deprived  of  assurance,  yet  ordi- 
narily no  other  but  they  have  assurance ;  and  that  assurance  and 
comfort  will  rise  and  fall  with  obedience. 

And  for  all  the  Antinomian  objections  against  this,  as  if  it  were 
a  leading  men  to  their  own  righteousness  from  Christ,  I  refer  you 
to  the  twenty  arguments  which  I  before  laid  you  down,  to  prove 
that  we  may  and  must  fetch  our  assurance  and  comfort  from  our 
own  works  and  graces  ;  and  so  from  our  own  evangelical  righteous- 
ness, which  is  subordinate  to  Christ's  righteousness,  (which  he 
speaks  of.  Matt.  xxv.  last,  and  in  forty  places  more,)  though  we 
must  have  no  thoughts  of  a  legal  righteousness  (according  to  the 
law  of  works  or  ceremonies)  in  ourselves.  They  may  as  well  say, 
that  a  woman  doth  forsake  her  husband,  because  she  comforteth 
herself  in  this,  that  she  hath  not  forsaken  him,  or  been  false  and 
unchaste,  thence  gathering  that  he  will  not  give  her  a  bill  of  di- 
vorce. Or  that  a  servant  forsakes  his  master,  or  a  subject  his 
prince,  or  a  parent  is  forsaken  by  his  child ;  because  they  comfort 
themselves  in  their  obedience  and  loyalty, -gathering  thence  that 
they  are  not  flat  rebels,  and  shall  not  be  used  as  rebels.  Or  that 
any  that  enter  covenant  with  superiors  do  forsake  them,  because 
they  comfort  themselves  in  their  keeping  covenant,  as  a  sign  that 
the  covenant  shall  be  kept  with  them :  all  these  are  as  wise  collec- 
tions as  to  gather,  that  a  man  forsakes  Christ  and  his  righteousness, 
and  setteth  up  his  own  instead  of  it,  because  he  looks  at  his  not 
forsaking,  refusing  and  vilifying  of  Christ,  his  love  and  faithful 
obedience  to  Christ,  as  comfortable  signs  that  Christ  will  not  for- 
sake and  reject  him.  Do  these  men  think  that  a  rebel  may  have 
the  love  of  his  prince,  and  as  much  comfort  from  him  as  a  loyal 
subject  ?  Or  a  whorish  woman  have  as  much  love  and  comfort 
from  her  husband  as  a  faithful  wife  ?  Or  a  stubborn,  rebellious 
son  or  servant  have  as  much  love  and  comfort  from  their  father  or 
mother  as  the  dutiful  ?  If  there  be  so  near  a  relation  as  hitherto 
we  have  supposed,  between  a  sovereign  and  subjection  to  him,  and 
a  husband  and  marriage-faithfulness  to  him,  and  a  master  and  ser- 


•  356  eiRECTiONS  for  oettinr  and  keeping 

vice  to  him,  and  a  father  and  loving  obedience  to  him,  it  is  strange 
that  men  should  suppose  such  a  strange  opposition  as  these  men 
do.  Certainly  God  doth  not  so,  when  he  saith,  "  If  I  be  a  father, 
where  is  mine  honor  ?  and  if  I  be  a  master,  where  is  my  fear  ? " 
Mai.  i.  6.     And  Isaiah  i.  3,  4.  "  Hear,  O  heavens,  and  give  ear, 

0  earth ;  for  the  Lord  hath  spoken,  I  have  nourished  and  brought 
up  children,  and  they  have  rebelled  against  me.  The  ox  knoweth 
his  owner,  and  the  ass  his  master's  crib,  but  Israel  doth  not  know, 
my  people  doth  not  consider.  Ah,  sinful  nation,  a  people  laden 
with  iniquity,  a  seed  of  evil  doers,  children  that  are  corrupters, 
they  have  forsaken  the  Lord,  they  have  provoked  the  Holy  One 
of  Israel  to  anger,  they  are  gone  away  backward."  And  Jer.  iii. 
19.  ''Thou  shalt  call  me,  My  father,  and  shalt  not  depart  away 
from  me."  And  2  Tim.  ii.  19.  "The  Lord  knoweth  who  are 
his.  And  let  him  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ  depart  from 
iniquity."  And  Psalm  Ixvi.  18.  "  If  I  delight  in  iniquity,  or 
regard  it,  God  will  not  hear  my  prayers,"  saith  David  himself. 
Doubtless  Paul  did  not  forsake  Christ's  righteousness  by  confidence 
in  his  own,  when  he  saith,  "  This  is  our  rejoicing,  the  testimony 
of  our  conscience,  that  in  simplicity  and  godly  sincerity  we  have 
had  our  conversation  among  you ; "  2  Cor.  i.  12.,  with  many  the 
like  which  I  before  mentioned.  Nor  doth  the  Lord  Jesus  at  the 
day  of  judgment  turn  men  off  from  his  righteousness,  when  he 
saith-,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,  because  thou  hast 
been  faithful  in  a  very  little,  I  will  make  thee  ruler  over  much ; " 
Lukexix.  17.  Matt.  xxv.  23.,  and  calls  them  thereupon  righteous, 
saying,  "And  the  righteous  shall  go  into  life  everlasting;"  Matt, 
xxv.  last. 

It  remains  now  that  I  further  acquaint  you  what  use  you  should 
make  of  this  observation,  concerning  the  dependence  of  assurance 
upon  actual  obedience.  And  first,  I  advise  you,  if  your  soul  re- 
main in  doubts  and  troubles,  and  you  cannot  enjoy  God  in  any 
way  of  peace  and  comfort,  nor  see  any  clear  evidence  of  the  sin- 
cerity of  your  faith,  take  a  serious  view  of  your  obedience,  and 
faithfully  survey  your  heart  and  life,  and  your  daily  carriage  to 
God  in  both.  See  whether  there  be  nothing  that  provokes  God 
to  an  unusual  jealousy  ;  if  there  be,  it  is  only  the  increase  of  some 
carnal  interest  in  vour  heart,  or  else  the  willful  or  netrlio-ent  fallinii 
into  some  actual  sin,  of  commission  or  of  omission.  In  the  mak- 
ing of  this  search,  you  have  need  to  be  exceeding  cautious;  for  if 

1  have  any  acquaintance  with  the  mystery  of  this  business,  your 
peace  or  trouble,  comfort  or  discomfort,  will  mainly  depend  on  this. 
And  your  care  must  he  in  this  point,  that  you  diligently  avoid  these 
two  extremes ;  first.  That  you  do  not  deal  negligently  or  unfaith- 
fully with  your  own  soul,  as  either  unwilling  to  know  the  truth, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  357 

or  unwilling  to  be  at  that  labor  ^\hich  you  must  needs  be  at  before 
you  can  know  it.  Secondly,  That  you  do  not  either  condemn 
yourself  when  your  conscience  doth  acquit  you,  or  vex  your  soul 
with  needless  scruples,  or  make  unavoidable  or  ordinary  infirmities 
to  seem  such  willful  heinous  sins  as  should  quite  break  your  settled 
peace.  O,  how  narrow  is  the  path  between  these  two  mistaken 
roads,  and  how  hard  a  thing,  and  how  rare  is  it  to  find  it  and  to  keep 
it !  For  yourself  and  all  tender-conscienced  Christians  that  are 
heartily  willing  to  be  ruled  by  Christ,  I  would  persuade  you  equally 
to  beware  of  both  these ;  because  some  souls  are  as  inclinable  to  the 
latter  extreme  .as  to  the  former,  (during  their  troubles.)  But  for 
.the  most  Christians  in  the  world,  I  would  have  them  first  and  prin- 
cipally avoid  the  former,  and  that  with  far  greater  diligence  than 
the  latter.  For,  1.  Naturally,  all  men's  hearts  are  far  more  prone 
to  deal  too  remissly,  yea,  unfaithfully  with  themselves,  in  search- 
ing after  their  sins,  than  too  scrupulously  and  tenderly.  The  best 
men  have  so  much  pride  and  carnal  self-love,  that  it  will  strongly 
incline  them  to  excuse,  or  mince,  or  hide  their  sins,  and  to  think 
far  lighter  and  more  favorably  of  it  than  they  should  do,  because 
it  is  theirs.  How  was  the  case  altered  with  Judah  towards  Tha- 
mah,  when  he  once  saw  it  was  his  own  act!  How  was  David's 
zeal  for  justice  allayed,  as  soon  as  he  heard,  "  Thou  art  the  man  !" 
This  is  the  most  common  cause  why  God  is  fain  to  hold  our  eyes 
on  our  transgressions  by  force,  because  we  are  so  loath  to  do  it 
more  voluntarily ;  and  why  he  openeth  our  sin  in  such  crimson  and 
scarlet  colors  to  us ;  because  we  are  so  apt  either  to  look  on  them 
as  nothing,  or  to  shut  our  eyes  and  overlook  them  ;  and  why  God 
doth  hold  us  so  long  on  the  rack,  because  we  would  still  ease  our- 
selves by  ingenious  excuses  and  extenuations  ;  and  why  God  doth 
break  the  skin  so  oft,  and  keep  open  our  wounds,  because  we  are 
still  healing  them  by  such  carnal  shifts.  This  proud,  sin-excusing 
distemper  needs  no  other  proof  or  discovery,  than  our  great  ten- 
derness and  backwardness  in  submitting  to  reproofs :  how  long  do 
we  excuse  sin,  and  defend  our  pretended  innocency,  as  long  as  we 
can  find  a  word  to  say  for  it !  Doth  not  daily  experience  of  this  sad 
distemper,  even  in  most  of  the  godly,  discover  fully  to  us,  that 
most  men  (yea,  naturally  all)  are  far  more  prone  to  overlook  their 
sins,  and  deal  faithlessly  and  negligently  in  the  trial,  than  to  be  too 
tender,  and  to  charge  themselves  too  deeply  ? 

Besides,  if  a  Christian  be  heartily  willing  to  deal  impartially^ 
and  search  to  the  quick,  yet  the  heart  is  lamentably  deceitful,  that 
he  shall  overlook  much  evil  in  it,  when  he  hath  done  his  best. 
And  the  devil  will  be  far  more  industrious  to  provoke  and  help  you 
to  hide,  excuse,  and  extenuate  sin,  than  to  open  it  and  see  it  as  it 
is.     His  endeavor  to  drive  poor  souls  into  terrors,  is  usuallv  but 


358  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

when  he  can  no  longer  keep  them  in  presumption.  When  he  can 
hide  their  sin  no  longer,  nor  make  it  seem  small,  to  keep  them  in 
irapenitency,  then  he  will  make  it  seem  unpardonable  and  remedi- 
less if  he  can  ;  but  usually  not  before.  So  that  you  see  the  frame 
of  most  men's  spirits  doth  require  them  to  be  rather  over-jealous 
in  searching  after  their  sins,  than  over-careless  and  confident  of 
themselves. 

2.  Besides  this,  I  had  rather  of  the  two  that  Christians  would 
suspect  and  search  too  much  than  too  little,  because  there  is  a 
hundred  times  more  danger  in  seeing  sin  less  than  it  is,  or  over- 
looking it,  than  in  seeing  it  greater  than  it  is,  and  being  over-fear- 
ful. The  latter  mistake  may  bring  us  into  sorrow,  and  make  our. 
lives  uncomfortable  to  us,  (and  therefore  should  be  avoided;)  but 
usually  it  doth  not  endanger  our  happiness ;  but  is  often  made  a 
great  occasion  for  our  good.  But  the  former  mistake  may  hazard 
our  everlasting  salvation,  and  so  bring  us  to  remediless  trouble. 

3.  Yea,  lest  you  should  say,  '  This  is  sad  language  to  comfort  a 
distressed  wounded  soul,'  let  me  add  this  one  reason  more.  So 
far  as  I  can  learn  by  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  by  long  experi- 
ence of  very  many  souls  under  troubles  of  conscience,  it  is  most 
commonly  some  notable  cherished  corruption  that  breedeth  and 
feedeth  the  sad,  uncomfortable  state  of  most  professors,  except 
those  who,  by  melancholy  or  very  great  ignorance,  are  so  weak  in 
their  intellectuals,  as  that  they  are  incapable  of  making  any  true 
discovery  of  their  condition,  and  of  passing  a  right  judgment  upon 
themselves  thereupon. 

Lest  1  should  make  sad  any  soul  that  God  would  not  have  sad, 
let  me  desire  you  to  observe,  1.  That  I  say  but  of  most  professors, 
not  all ;  for  I  doubt  not  but  God  may  hide  his  face  for  some  time 
from  some  of  the  holiest  and  wisest  of  believers,  for  several  and 
great  reasons.  2.  Do  but  well  observe  most  of  the  humble,  obe- 
dient Christians,  that  you  know  to  lie  under  any  long  and  sad  dis- 
tress of  mind,  and  you  will  find  that  they  are  generally  of  one  of 
the  two  fore-mentioned  sorts ;  either  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know 
well  what  faith  is,  or  what  the  conditions  of  the  covenant  are,  or 
what  is  the  extent  of  the  promise,  or  the  full  sufficiency  of  Christ's 
satisfaction  for  all  sinners,  or  what  are  the  evidences  by  which  they 
may  try  themselves  ;  or  else  they  are  melancholy  persons,  whose 
fancy  is  still  molested  with  these  perturbing  vapors,  and  their  un- 
dei-standings  so  clouded  and  distempered,  that  reason  is  not  free. 
And  so  common  is  this  latter,  that  in  my  observation  of  all  the 
Christians  that  have  lived  in  any  long  and  deep  distress  of  mind, 
six,  if  not  ten  for  one,  have  been  deeply  melancholy ;  except  those 
that  feed  their  troubles  by  disobedience.  So  that  besides  these 
ignorant  and  melancholy  persons,  and  disorderly,  declining  Chris- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    ANt>    COMFORT.  359 

lians,the  number  of  wounded  spirits,  I  think,  is  very  small,  in  com- 
parison of  the  rest.  Indeed,  it  is  usual  for  many  at,  or  shortly  after, 
their  first  change,  to  be  under  trouble  and  keep  fears ;  but  that  is 
but  while  the  sense  of  former  sin  is  fresh  upon  their  hearts.  The 
sudden  discovery  of  so  deep  a  guilt,  and  so  great  a  danger,  which  a 
man  did  never  know  before,  must  needs  amaze  and  affright  the 
soul ;  and  if  that  fear  remain  long,  where  right  means  are  either 
not  known,  or  not  used  for  the  cure,  it  is  no  wonder ;  and  some- 
times it  will  be  long,  if  the  rightest  means  be  used.  But  for  those 
that  have  been  long  in  the  profession  of  holiness,  and  yet  lie,  or  fall 
again  under  troubles  of  soul,  (except  those  before  excepted,)  I  would 
have  them  make  a  diligent  search,  whether  God  do  not  observe 
either  some  fleshly  interest  encroach  upon  his  right,  or  some  actual 
siji  to  be  cherished  in  their  hearts  or  conversations. 

And  here  let  me  tell  you,  when  you  are  making  this  search, 
what  particulars  they  be  which  I  would  have  you  to  be  most  jeal- 
ous of.  i.  The  former  sort,  which  I  call  contrary  carnal  interest, 
encroaching  on  Christ's  right,  are  they  that  you  must  look  after 
with  far  more  diligence  than  your  actual  sins.  (1.)  Because  they 
are  the  far  greatest  and  most  dangerous  of  all  sins,  and  the  root  of 
all  the  rest ;  for  as  God  is  the  end  and  chief  good  of  every  saint,  so 
these  sins  do  stand  up  against  him,  as  our  end  and  chief  good,  and 
carry  away  the  soul  by  that  act  which  we  call  simply  willing,  or 
complacency,  and  so  these  interests  are  men's  idols,  and  resist 
God's  very  sovereignty  and  perfect  goodness  ;  that  is,  they  are 
against  God  himself  as  our  God.  Whereas  those  which  I  now  call 
actual  sins,  as  distinct  from  these,  are  but  the  violation  of  particular 
precepts,  and  against  God's  means  and  laws  directly,  and  but  re- 
motely, or  indirectly  against  his  Godhead ;  and  they  have  but  that 
act  of  our  will,  which  we  call  election,  consent  or  use,  which  is 
proper  to  means,  and  not  to  the  end.  (2.)  Because,  as  these  sins 
are  the  most  damnable,  so  they  he  deepest  at  the  heart,  and  are 
not  so  easily  discovered.  It  is  ordinary  with  many  to  have  a 
covetous,  worldly,  ambitious  heart,  even  damnably  such,  that  yet 
have  wit  to  carry  it  fairly  without ;  yea,  and  seem  truly  religious  to 
themselves  and  others.  (.3.)  Because  these  sins  are  the  most  com- 
mon ;  for  though  they  reign  only  in  hypocrites  and  other  unsancti- 
fied  ones,  yet  they  dwell  too  much  in  all  men  on  earth. 

If  you  now  ask  me  what  these  sins  are,  I  answer,  They  are,  as 
denominated  from  the  point  or  term  from  which  men  turn,  all  com- 
prised in  this  one,  '  unwillingness  of  God,  or  the  turning  of  the  heart 
from  God,  or  not  loving  God.'  But  as  we  denominate  them  from 
the  term  or  object  to  which  they  run,  they  are  all  comprised  in 
this  one,  '  carnal  self-love,  or  turning  to,  and  preferring  our  carnal 
self  before  God : '  and  as  it  inclineth  to  action,  all,  or  most  of  it,  is 


360  DIRECTIONS    FOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

comprehended  in  this  one  word,  '  Flesh-pleasing.'  But  because 
there  are  a  trinity  of  sins  in  this  unity,  we  must  consider  them  dis- 
tinctly. Three  great  objects  there  are,  about  which  this  sin  of 
flesh-pleasing  is  exercised:  1.  Credit  or  honor.  2.  Profit  or 
riches.  3.  Sensual  pleasure,  more  strictly  so  called,  consisting  in 
the  more  immediate  pleasing  of  the  senses  ;  whereas  the  two  first 
do  more  remotely  please  them,  by  laying  in  provision  to  that  end ; 
otherwise  all  three  are  in  the  general  but  flesh-pleasing.  The  three 
great  sins,  therefore,  that  do  most  directly  fight  against  God  himself, 
in  his  sovereignty,  are,  1.  Pride,  or  ambition.  2.  Worldliness,  or 
love  of  riches.  3.  Sensuality,  voluptuousness,  or  inordinate  love 
of  pleasures.  There  are  in  the  understanding  indeed  other  sins, 
as  directly  against  God  as  these,  and  more  radical ;  as,  1.  Atheism, 
denying  a  God.  2.  Polytheism,  denying  our  God  to  be  the  alon^ 
God,  and  joining  others  with  him.  3.  Idolatry,  owning  false  gods. 
4.  Infidelity,  denying  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord  Redeemer.  5.  Own- 
ing false  Saviors  and  prophets,  in  his  stead,  or  before  him,  as  do 
the  Mahometans.  6.  Joining  other  Redeemers  and  Saviors  with 
hira,  as  if  he  were  not  the  alone  Christ.  7.  Denying  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  denying  credit  to  his  holy  and  miraculous  testimony  to 
the  Christian  faith,  and  blasphemously  ascribing  all  to  the  devil; 
which  is  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  8.  Owning  and  believ- 
ing in  devils,  or  lying  spirits,  instead  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  as  the 
Montanists,  Mahometans,  Ranters,  Familists,  do.  9.  Owning  and 
adjoining  devils,  or  lying  spirits,  in  coordination  or  equality  with 
the  Holy  Ghost,  arid  believing  equally  his  doctrine  and  theirs  ;  as 
if  he  were  not  sole  and  sufficient  in  his  w^ork.  All  these  are  sins 
directly  against  God  himself,  and  if  prevalent,  most  certainly  damn- 
ing ;  three  against  the  Father,  three  against  the  Son,  and  three 
against  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  these  be  not  they  that  I  need  now 
to  warn  you  of.  These  are  prevalent  only  in  pagans,  infidels,  and 
blasphemers.  Your  troubles  and  complaints  show  that  these  are 
not  predominant  in  you.  It  is  therefore  the  three  fore-mentioned 
sins  of  the  heart  or  will,  that  I  would  have  you  carefully  to  look 
after  in  your  troubles,  to  see  whether  none  of  them  get  ground  and 
strength  in  you. 

1.  Inquire  carefully  into  your  humility.  It  is  not  for  nothing 
that  Christ  hath  said  so  much  of  the  excellency  and  necessity  of  this 
grace  ;  when  he  bids  us  learn  of  him  to  be  meek  and  lowly  ;  when 
he  blesseth  the  meek  and  poor  in  spirit ;  when  he  setteth  a  little 
child  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  telleth  them,  except  they  become 
as  that  child,  they  could  not  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven ; 
when  he  stoopeth  to  wash  and  wipe  his  disciples'  feet,  requiring 
them  to  do  so  by  one  another.  How  oft  doth  the  Holy  Ghost 
press  this  upon  us!   commanding  us  to  submit  ourselves  to  one 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  361 

another,  and  not  to  mind  higli  tliinos ;  but  to  condescend  to  men  of 
low  estate  ;  Rom.  xii.  IG.,  and  not  to  be  wise  in  our  own  esteem, 
but  in  honor  prefer  others  before  ourselves;  Rom.  xii.  10.  How 
oft  hath  God  professed  to  resist  ana  take  down  the  proud,  and  to 
,  give  grace  to  the  humble-,  and  dwell  with  them  !  Search  carefully, 
therefore,  lest  this  sin  get  ground  upon  you.  For  though  it  may 
not  be  so  predominant  and  raging  as  to  damn  you,  yet  may  it  cause 
God  to  afflict  you,  and  hide  his  face  from  you,  and  humble  you  by 
the  sense  of  liis  displeasure,  and  the  concealment  of  his  love.  And 
though  one  would  think  that'  doubting,  trouMed  souls  should  be 
always  the  most  humble  and  freest  from  pride,  yet  sad  experience 
hath  certified  me,  that  much  pride  may  dwell  with  great  doublings 
and  distress  of  mind.  Even  some  of  the  same  souls  that  cry  out  of 
their  own  unworthincss,  and  fear  lest  they  shall  be  fire-brands  of 
hell,  yet  cannot  endure  a  close  reproof,  especially  for  any  disgrace- 
ful sin,  nor  bear  a  disparaging  word,  nor  love  those,  nor  speak  well 
of  them,  who  do  not  value  them,  nor  endure  to  be  crossed  or  con- 
tradicted in  word  or  deed,  but  must  have  all  go  their  way,  and  fol- 
low their  judgment,  and  say  as  they  say,  and  dance  after  their 
pipe,  and  their  hearts  rise  against  those  that  will  not  do  it ;  much 
more  against  those  that  speak  or  do  any  thing  to  the  diminishing  of 
their  reputation  :  they  cannot  endure  to  be  low,  and  passed  by,  and 
overlooked,  when  others  are  preferred  before  them,  or  to  be  slight- 
ed and  disrespected,  or  their  words,  or  parts,  or  works,  or  judg- 
ments, to  be  contemned  or  disparaged.  Nay,  some  are  scarce  able 
to  live  in  the  same  house,  or  church,  or  town,  in  love  and  peace, 
with  any  but  those  that  will  humor  and  please  them,  and  speak 
them  fair,  and  givg  them  smooth  and  stroking  language,  and  for- 
bear crossing,  reproving,  and  disparaging  them.  Every  one  of 
these  singly  is  an  evident  mark  and  fruit  of  pride  ;  how  much  more 
all  jointly  !  I  seriously  profess  it  amazeth  me  to  consider  how 
heinously  most  professors  are  guilty  of  this  sin  ;  even  when  they 
know  it  to  be  the  devil's  own  sin,  and  the  great  abomination  hated 
of  God,  and  read  and  hear  so  much  against  it  as  they  do,  and 
confess  it  so  oft  in  their  prayers  to  God,  and  yet  not  only  inwardly 
cherish  it,  but  in  words,  actions,  gestures,  apparel,  express  it,  and 
passionately  defend  these  discoveries  of  it.  The  confusions  and 
distractions  in  church  and  state  are  nothing  else  but  the  proper 
fruits  of  it ;  so  are  the  contentions  among  Christians,  and  tlie  un- 
peaceableness  in  families  ;  "  for  only  from  pride  cometh  conten- 
tion," saith  Solomon ;  Prov.  xiii.  10.  For  my  part,  when  1  con- 
sider the  great  measure  of  pride,  self-conceitedness,  self-esteem, 
that  is  in  the  greatest  part  of  Christians  that  ever  1  was  acquainted 
with,  (we  of  the  ministry  not  excc|)ted,)  1  wonder  that  God  doth 
not  afflict  us  more,  and  bring  us  down  by  foul  means,  that  will  not 
VOL.  I.  46 


362         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

be  brought  down  by  fair.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  had  as  great 
means  to  help  me  against  this  sin,  as  most  men  hving  ever  had ; 
fii"st,  in  many  years'  trouble  .of  mind,  and  then  in  near  twenty 
years'  languishing,  and  bodily  pains,  having  been  almost  twenty 
times  at  the  grave's  mouth,  and  living  neat  it  continually;  and  last- 
ly, and  above  all,  I  have  had  as  full  a  sight  of  it  in  others,  even  in 
the  generality  of  the  professors,  and  in  the  doleful  state  of  the 
church  and  state,  and  heinous,  detestable  abominations  of  this  age, 
which  one  would  think  should  have  fully  cured  it.  And  yet  if  I 
hear  but  either  an  applauding  word  from  any  of  fame  on  one  side, 
or  a  disparaging  word  on  the  other  side,  I  am  fain  to  watch  my 
heart  as  narrowly  as  I  would  do  the  thatch  of  my  house  when  fire 
is  put  to  it,  apd  presently  to  throw  on  it  the  water  of  detestation, 
resolution,  and  recourse  to  God.  And  though  the  acts  through 
God's  great  mercy  be  thus  restrained,  yet  the  constancy  of  these  in- 
clinations assures  me,  that  there  is  still  a  strong  and  deep  root.  I 
beseech  you,  therefore,  if  you  would  ever  have  settled  peace  and 
comfort,  be  watchful  against  this  sin  of  pride,  and  be  sure  to  keep 
it  down,  and  get  it  mortified  at  the  very  heart. 

2.  The  next  sin  that  I  would  have  you  be  specially  jealous  of, 
is  covetousness,  or  love  of  the  profits  or  riches  of  the  world.  This 
is  not  the  sin  of  the  rich  only,  but  also  of  the  poor :  and  more  hei- 
nous is  it  in  them  to  love  the  world  inordinately,  that  have  so  little 
of  it,  than  in  rich  men,  that  have  more  to  tempt  them,  though 
dangerous  in  both.  Nor  doth  it  lie  only  in  coveting  that  which  is 
another's,  or  in  seeking  to  get  by  unlawful  means ;  but  also  in  over- 
valuing and  overloving  the  wealth  of  the  world,  though  lawfully 
gotten.  He  that  loveth  the  world,  (that  is,  above  Christ  and  holi- 
ness,) the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in  him,  (that  is,  savingly  and 
sincerely  ;)  1  John  ii.  15.  He  that  loveth  house  or  lands  better 
than  Christ,  cannot  be  his  disciple.  I  beseech  you,  therefore,  when 
God  hides  his  face,  search  diligently,  and  search  again  and  again, 
lest  the  world  should  encroach  on  Christ's  interest  in  your  heart. 
If  it  should  be  so,  can  you  wonder  if  Christ  seem  to  withdraw, 
when  you  begin  to  set  so  light  by  him,  as  to  value  dung  and'  earth 
in  any  comparison  with  himself?  May  he  not  well  say  to  you, 
'  If  you  set  so  much  by  the  world,  take  it,  and  see  what  it  will  do 
for  you  ?  If  you  can  spare  me  better  than  your  wealth,  you  shall  be 
without  me.'  Must  not  the  Lord  Jesus  needs  take  it  exceedingly 
unkind,  that  after  all  his  love  and  bloodshed,  and  pains  with  your 
heart,  and  seals  of  his  kindness,  and  discoveries  of  his  amiableness, 
and  the  treasures  of  his  kingdom,  you  should  now  so  much  forget 
and  slight  him,  to  set  up  the  world  in  any  comparison  with  him? 
And  to  give  such  loving  entertainment  to  his  enemy?  »And  look 
so  kindly  on  a  competitor  ?     Is  his  glory  worth  no  more  than  so  ? 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  363 

And  liath  lie  deserved  no  better  at  your  Iiands?     Again,  therefore, 
do  I  beseech  you  to  be  afraid,  lest  you  should  be  guilty  of  this  sin. 
Examine  whether  the  thoughts  of  the  world  grow  not  sweeter   to 
you,  and  the  thoughts  of  God  and  glory  more  unwelcome  and  un- 
pleasing  ;  whether  you  have  not  an  eagerness  after  a  fuller  estate, 
and  too  keen  an  edge  upon  your  desires  after  riches,  or  at  least 
■  after  a  fuller  portion  and  provision  for  your  children  ;  or  after  bet- 
ter accommodations  and  contentments  in  house,  goods,  or  other 
worldly  things.     Do  not  worldly  hopes  delight  you  too  much  ? 
And  much  more  your  worldly  possessions  ?     Are  you  not  too  busi- 
ly contriving  how  to  be  richer,  forgetting  God's  words,  1  Tim.  vi. 
8,  9.  17  ?     Doth  not  the  world  eat  out  the  life  of  your  duties,  that 
when  you  should  be  serious  with  God,  you  have  left  your  heart  be- 
hind you,  and  drowned  your  affections  in  things  below  ?     Doth  not 
your  soul   stick  so  fast  in  this  mud  and  clay,  that  you  can  scarce 
stir  it  God-ward  in  prayer  or  heavenly  meditation  ?     Do  not  you 
cut  short  duties  in  your  family  and  in  secret,  if  not  frequently  omit 
them,  that  so  you  may  be  again  at  your  worldly  business  ?     Or  do 
you  not  customarily  hurry  them  over,  because  the  world  will  not 
allow  you  leisure  to  be  serious,  and  so  you  have  no  time  to  deal  in 
good  earnest  with  Christ  or  your  soul  ?     Do  not  your  very  speech- 
es of  Christ  and  heaven  grow  few  and  strange,  because  the  world 
must  first  be  served  ?     When  you  see  your  brother  have  need,  do 
you  not  shut  up  the  bowels  of  your  compassions  from  him  ?     Doth 
not  the  love  of  the  world  make  you  hard  to  your  servants,  hard  to 
those  you  buy  and  sell  with  ?     And  doth  it  not  encroach  much  on 
the  Lord's  own  day  ?    Look  after  this  earthly  vice  in  all  these  dis- 
coveries, search  for  your  enemy  in  each  of  these  comers.     And  if 
you  find  that  this  is  indeed  your  case,  you  need  not  much  wonder 
if  Christ  and  you  be  stranger  than  heretofore.     If  this  earth  get 
between  your  heart  and  the  sun  of- life,  no  w^onder  if  all  your  com- 
forts are  in  an  eclipse,  seeing  your  light  is  but  as  the  moon's,  a 
borrowed  light.     And  you  must  be  the  more  careful  in  searching 
after  this  sin,  both  because  it  is  certain  that  all  men  have  too  much 
of  it,  and  because  it  is  of  so  dangerous  a  nature,  that  should  it  pre- 
vail it  would  destroy  ;  forcovetousness  is  idolatry,  and  among  all  the 
heinous  sins  that  the  godly  have  fallen  into,  look  into  the  Scripture, 
and  tell  me  how  many  of  them  you  find  charged  with  covetousness. 
And  also,  because  it  is  a  blinding,  befooling  sin,  not  only  drawing  old 
men,  and  those  that  have  no  children,  and  rich  men  that  have  no  need 
to  pursue  these  things,  as  madly  as  others,  but  also  hiding  itself  from 
their  eyes,  that  most  that  are  guilty  of  it  will  not  know  it;  though, 
alas!    if  they  were  but  willing,  it  were  very  easy  to  know  it. 
But  the  power  of  the  sin  doth  so  set  to  work  their  wits  to  find  ex- 
cuses and  fair  names  and  titles   for  to  cloak  it,  that  many  delude 


364  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

Others  by  it,  and  more  delude  themselves  ;  but  none  can  delude  God. 
The  case  of  some  professors  of  godlhiess  that  I  have  known,  is 
very  lamentable  on  this  point,  who,  being  generally  noted  for  a 
dangerous  measure  of  worldliness,  by  most  that  know  them,  could 
yet  never  be  brought  to  acknowledge  it  in  themselves.  Nay,  by 
the  excellency  of  their  outward  duties  and  discourse,  and  the  strength 
of  their  wits,  (alas!  ill  employed,)  and  by  their  great  ability  of- 
speech,  to  put  a  fair  gloss  on  the  foulest  of  their  actions,  they  have 
gone  on  so  smoothly  and  plausibly  in  their  worldliness,  that  though 
most  accused  them  of  it  behind  their  backs,  yet  no  man  knew  how 
to  fasten  any  thing  on  them.  By  which  means  i.hey  were  hinder- 
ed from  repentance  and  recovery. 

In  this  sad  case,  though  it  be  God's  course  very  often  to  let 
hypocrites  and  other  enemies  go  on  and  prosper,  because  they 
have  their  portion  in  this  life,  and  the  reckoning  is  to  come,  yet  I 
have  oft  observed,  that  for  God's  own  people,  or  those  he  means 
to  make  his  people  by  their  recovery,  God  useth  to  cross  them  in 
their  worldly  desires  and  designs.  Perliaps  he  may  let  them  thrive 
awhile,  and  congratulate  the  prosperity  of  their  flesh  ;  but  at  last  he 
breaks  in  suddenly  on  their  wealth,  and  scatters  it  abroad,  or  addeth 
some  cross  to  it,  that  imbitters  all  to  them,  and  then  asketh  them, 
*  Where  is  now  your  idol  ? '  And  then  they  begin  to'see  their  folly. 
If  you  do  dote  on  any  thing  below,  to  the  neglecting  of  God,  he 
will  make  a  rod  for  you  of  that  very  thing  you  dote  upon,  and  by 
it  will  he  scourge  you  home  to  himself. 

3.  The  third  great  heart-sin  which  I  would  have  you  jealous  of, 
is  sensuality  or  voluptuousness,  or  pleasing  the  senses  inordinately. 
The  two  former  are  in  this  the  more  mortal  sins,  in  that  they  carry 
more  of  the  understanding  and  will  with  them,  and  make  reason  it- 
self to  be  serviceable  to  them  in  their  workings ;  whereas  sensual- 
ity is  more  in  the  flesh  and  passion,  and  hath  ofttimes  less  assist- 
ance of  reason  or  consent  of  the  will.  Yet  is  the  will  tainted  with 
sensual  inclinations,  and  both  reason  and  will  are  at  best  g;uilty  of 
connivance,  and  not  exercismg  their  authority  over -the  sensual 
part.  But  in  this,  sensuality  is  the  more  dangerous  vice,  in  that  it 
hath  so  strong  and  inseparable  a  seat  as  our  sensual  appetite ;  and 
in  that  it  acteth  so  violently  and  ragingly  as  it  doth  ;  so  that  it  bear- 
eth  down  a  weak  opposition  of  reason  and  will,  and  carrieth  us  on 
blindfold,  and  transformeth  us  into  brutes.  I  will  not  here  put  the 
question  concerning  the  gross  acting  of  this  sin,  (of  that  anon,)  but 
I  would  have  you  very  jealous  of  a  sensual  disposition.  When  a 
man  cannot  deny  his  appetite  what  it  would  have  ;  or  at  least,  cov- 
etousness  can  do  more  in  restraining  it  than  conscience ;  when  a 
man  cannot  make  a  covenant  with  hi^  eyes,  but  must  gaze  on  every 
alluring  object;  when  the  flesh  draws  to  forbidden  pleasures,  in 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  365 

roeats,  drinks,  apparel,  recreations,  lasciviousness,  and  all  the  con-. 
siderations  of  reason  cannot  restrain  it ;  this  is  a  sad  case,  and  God 
may  well  give  over  such  to  sadness  of  heart.  If  we  walk  so  pleas- 
ingly to  the  flesh,  God  will  walk  more  displeasingly  to  us. 

And  as  you  should  be  jealous  of  these  great  heart  transgressions, 
so  should  you  be  of  particular,  actual  sins.  Examine  whether  the 
jealous  eye  of  God  see  not  something  that  much  ofFendeth  him,  and 
causeth  your  heaviness.  I  will  not  enlarge  so  far  as  to  mind  you 
of  the  particular  sins  that  you  should  look  after,  seeing  it  must  be 
all,  and  your  obedience  must  be  universal.  Only  one  I  will  give 
you  a  hint  of.  I  have  observed  God  sometimes  show  himself  most 
displeased  and  angry  to  those  Christians  who  have  the  least  ten- 
dern^ess  and  compassion  towards  the  infirmities  of  others.  He  that 
hath  made  the  forgiving  others  a  necessary  condition  of  God's  for- 
giving us,  will  surely  withdraw  the  sense  of  our  forgiveness,  when 
we  withdraw  our  forgiveness  and  compassion  to  men.  He  that 
casts  the  unmerciful  servant  into  hell,  who  takes  his  fellow  servant 
by  the  throat,  will  threaten  us  and  frown  upon  us,  if  we  come  but 
near  it.  "  Blessed  are  the  merciful,  for  t^ey  shall  obtain  mercy." 
"  He  shall  have  judgment  without  mercy  that  showeth  no  mercy  ; " 
James  ii.  13.  Study  well  Rom.  xiv.  xv.  Gal.  vi. ;  which  the 
proud,  censorious,  self-esteeming  professors  of  this  age  have  stud- 
ied so  little,  and  will  not  understand.  When  we  deal  sourly  and 
churlishly  with  our  weak  brethren,  and  instead  of  winning  an  offend- 
er by  love,  we  will  vilify  him,  and  disdain  him,  and  say,  '  How  can 
such  a  man  have  any  grace  ? '  and  will  think  and  speak  hardly  of 
those  that  do  but  cherish  any  hopes  that  he  may  be  gracious,  or 
speak  of  him  with  tenderness  and  compassion;  no  wonder  if  God 
force  the  consciences  of  such  persons  to  deal  as  churlishly  and  sour- 
ly with  them,  and  to  clamor  against  them,  and  say,  '  How  canst 
thou  have  any  true  grace,  who  hast  such  sins  as  these  ? '  When 
our  Lord  himself  dealt  away  so  tenderly  with  sinners,  that  it  gave 
occasion  to  the  slanderous  Pharisees  to  say,  he  was  "  a-  friend  of 
publicans  and  sinners ;  "  (and  so  he  was,  even  their  greatest  friend.) 
And  his  command  to  us  is,  "  We  then  that  are  strong  ought  to  bear 
ihe  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and  not  to  please  ourselves  :  let  everj^ 
one  of  us  please  his  neiglibor  for  his  good  to  edification  ;  for  even 
Christ  jileased  not  himself; ''  Rom.  xv  1 — 3.  And  Gal.  ^^.  1,  2, 
"  Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  with  a  fault,  ye  which  are  spirit- 
ual restore  such  an  one  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  considering  thy- 
self lest  thou  also  be  tempted.  Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens, 
and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ."  When  people  can  bear  with  al- 
most no  infirmity  in  a  neighbor,  in  a  servant,  or  in  their  nearest 
friends,  but  will  make  the  worst  of  every  fiult,  no  wonder  if  God 
make  such  feel  their  dealings  with  others,  by  his  dealings  uith  them. 


^66  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

Had  such  that  love  to  their  poorest  brethren,  which  thinketh  no 
evil,  and  speaketh  not  evil,  which  "  sufFereth  long  and  is  kind,  en- 
vieth  not,  vaunteth  not  itself,  is  not  puffed  up,  behaveth  not  itself 
unseemly,  seeketh  not  her  own,  is  not  easily  provoked,  beareth  all 
things,  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things;  " 
(1  Cor.  xiii.  4,  5.  7. ;)  had  we  more  of  this  love,  which  covereth  a 
multitude  of  infirmities,  God  would  cover  our  infirmities  the  more, 
and  tell  us  of  them,  and  trouble  us  for  them  the  less. 

To  this  sin  I  may  add  another,  which  is  scarcely  another,  but 
partly  the  same  with  this,  and  partly  its  immediate  effect ;  and  that 
is,  unpeaceableness  and  unquietness  with  those  about  us :  this  com- 
monly occasioneth  God  to  make  us  as  unpeaceable  and  unquiet  in 
ourselves.  When  people  are  so  froward,  and  peevish,  and  trouble- 
some, that  few  can  live  in  peace  with  them,  either  in  family  or 
neighborhood,  except  those  that  have  little  to  do  with  them,  or 
those  that  can  humor  them  in  all  things,  and  have  an  extraordinary 
skill  in  smooth  speaking,  flattering  or  man-pleasing,  so  that  neigh- 
bors, servants,  children,  and  sometimes  their  own  yoke-fellows, 
must  be  gone  from  them^  and  may  not  abide  near  them,  as  a  man 
gets  out  from  the  way  of  a  wild  beast,  or  a  mad  dog,  or  avoideth  the 
flames  of  a  raging  fire  ;  is  it  any  wonder  if  God  give  these  people 
as  little  peace  in  their  own  spirits  as  they  give  to  others  ?  When 
people  are  so  hard  to  he  pleased,  that  nobody  about  them  or  near 
them  can  tell  how  to  fit  their  humors ;  neighbors  cannot  please 
them,  servants  cannot  please  them,  husband  or  wife  cannot  please 
each  other ;  every  word  is  spoken  amiss,  and  every  thing  done 
amiss  to  them ;  what  wonder  if  God  seem  hard  to  be  pleased,  and 
as  frequently  offended  with  them  ?  especially  if  their  unpeacea- 
bleness trouble  the  church,  and,  in  their  turbulency  and  self-con- 
ceitedness,  they  break  the  peace  thereof. 

Thus  I  have  told  you  what  sins  you  must  look  after  when  you 
find  your  peace  broken,  and  your  conscience  •  disquieted  :  search 
carefully  lest  some  iniquity  lie  at  the  root.  Some,  I  know,  will" 
think  that  it  is  an  unseasonable  discourse  to  a  troubled  conscience, 
to  mind  them  so  much  of  their  sins,  which  they  are  apt  to  look  at 
too  much  already.  But  to  such  I  answer,  either  those  sins  are 
mortified  and  forsaken  or  not.  If  they  be,  then  these  are  not  the 
persons  that  I  speak  of,  whose  trouble  js  fed  by  continued  sin  ;  but 
I  shall  speak  more  to  them  anon.  If  not,  then  it  seems  for  all  their 
trouble  of  conscience,  sin  is  not  sufficiently  laid  to  heart  yet. 

The  chiefest  thing,  therefore,  that  I  intend  in  all  this  discourse, 
is  this  following  advice  to  those  that  upon  search  do  fiind  themselves 
guilty  in  any  of  these  cases.  '  As  ever  you  would  have  peace  of 
conscience,  set  yourselves  presently  against  your  sins.  And  do  not 
either  mistakingly  cry  out  of  one  sore,  when  it  is  another  that  is 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  367 

your  malady ;  nor  yet  spend  your  days  in  fears  and  disquietness 
of  mind,  and  ffuitless  complainings,  and  in  the  mean  time  continue 
in  willful  sinning.  But  resist  sin  more,  and  tomient  your  minds 
less;  and  break  off  your  sin  and  your  terrors  together.' 

In  these  words  I  tell  you  what  must  be  done  for  your  cure  ;  and 
I  warn  you  of  two  sore  mistakes  of  many  sad  Christians  hereabout. 
The  cure  lieth  in  breaking  off  sin  to  the  utmost  of  your  power. 
This  is  the  Achan  that  disquieteth  all.  It  is  God's  great  mercy  that 
he  disquieteth  you  in  sinning,  and  gives  you  not  over  to  so  deep  a 
slumber  and  peace  hi  sin,  as  might  hinder  your  repentance  and 
reformation.     The  dangerous  mistakes  here  are  these  two. 

1.  Some  do,  as"  the  lapwing,  cry  loudest  when  they  are  furthest 
from  the  nest,  and  complain  of  an  aching  tooth,  when  the  disease 
is  in  the  head  or  heart.  Tliey  cry  out,  '  O,  I  have  such  wandering 
thoughts  in  prayer,  and  such  a  bad  memory,  and  so  hard  a  heart, 
that  I  cannot  weep  for  sin,  or  such  doubts  and  fears,  and  so  little 
sense  of  the  love  of  God,  that  I  doubt  I  have  no  true  grace.' 
When  they  should  rather  say,  '  I  have  so  proud  a  heart,  that  God 
is  fain  by  these  sad  means  to  humble  me.  I  am  so  high  in  mine 
own  eyes,  so  wise  in  my  own  conceit,  and  so  tender  of  my  own  es- 
teem and  credit,  that  God  is  fain  to  make  me  base  in  my  own  eyes, 
and  to  abhor  myself.  I  am  so  worldly  and  in  love  with  earth,  that 
it  draws  away  my  thoughts  from  God,  dulls  my  love,  and  spoils  all 
rpy  duties.  I  am  so  sensual,  that  I  venture  sooner  to  displease  my 
God  than  my  flesh.  I  have  so  little  compassion  on  the  infirmities 
of  my  neighbors,  and  servants,  and  other  brethren,  and  deal  so  cen- 
soriously, churlishly,  and  unmercifully  with  them,  that  God  is  fain 
to  hide  his  mercy  from  me,  and  speak  to  me  as  in  anger,  and  vex 
me  as  in  sore  displeasure.  I  am  so  froward,  peevish,  quarrelsome, 
unpeaceable,  and  hard  to  be  pleased,  that  it  is  no  wonder  if  I  have 
no  peace  with  God,  or  in  my  own  conscience ;  and  if  I  have  so 
little  quietness  who  love  and  seek  it  no  more.'  Many  have  more 
reason,  I  say,  to  turn  their  complaints  into  this  tune. 

2.  Another  most  common,  unhappy  miscamage  of  sad  Chris- 
iians  lieth  here  ;  That  they  will  rather  continue  complaining  and 
self-tormenting,  than  give  over  sinning,  so  far  as  they  might  give 
it  over  if  they  would.  I  beseech  you,  in  the  name  of  God,  to  know 
and  consider  what  it  is  that  God  requireth  of  you.  He  doth  not 
desire  your  vexation,  but  reformation.  No  further  doth  he  desire 
fhe  trouble  of  your  mind,  than  as  it  tendeth  to  the  avoiding  of  that 
sin  which  is  the  cause  of  it.  God  would  have  you  less  in  your  fears 
and  troubles,  and  more  in  your  obedience.  Obey  more,  "and  dis- 
quiet your  minds  less.  Will  you  take  this  counsel  presently,  and 
see  whether  it  will  not  do  you  more  good  than  all  the  complaints 
and  doubtings  of  your  whole  life  have  done?     Set  yourself  withal!  ' 


368        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

your  might  against  your  pride,  worldliness,  and  sensuality,  your 
unpeaceableness  and  want  of  love  and  tenderness  to  your  brethren  ; 
and  whatever  other  sin  your  conscience  is  acquainted  with.  I  pray 
you  tell  me,  if  you  had  gravel  in  your  shoe,  in  your  travel,  would 
it  not  be  more  wisdom  to  sit  down  and  take  off  J'our  shoe,  and  cast 
it  out,  than  to  stand  still,  or  go  complaining,  and  tell  every  one 
you  meet  of  your  soreness  ?  If  you  have  a  thorn  in  your  foot,  will 
you  go  on  halting  and  lamenting  ?  or  will  you  pull  it  out  ?  Truly 
sin  is  the  thorn  in  ^our  conscience  ;  and  those  that  would  not  have 
such  troubled  consciences  told  of  their  sins  for  fear  of  increasing 
their  distress,  are  unskillful  comforters,  and  will  continue  the  trou- 
ble while  the  thorn  is  in.  As  ever  you  would  have  peace,  then, 
resolve  against  sin  to  the  utmost  of  your  power.  Never  excuse  it, 
or  cherish  it,  or  fayor  it  more.  Confess  it  freely.  Thank  those 
that  reprove  you  for  it.  Desire  those  about  you  to  watch  over 
you,  and  to  tell  you  of  it,  though  it  be  not  evident.  And  if  you  do 
not  see  so  much  pride,  worldliness,  unpeaceableness,  or  other  sins 
in  yourself,  as  your  friends  think  they  see  in  you,  yet  let  their  judg- 
ment make  you  jealous  of  your  heart,  seeing  self-love  doth  oft  so 
blind  us  that  we  cannot  see  that  evil  in  ourselves  which  others  see 
in  us ;  nay,  which  all  the  town  may  take  notice  of.  And  be  sure 
to  engage  your  friends  that  they  shall  not  smooth  over  your  faults, 
or  mince  them,  and  tell  you  of  them  in  extenuating  language,  which 
may  hinder  conviction  and  repentance,  much  less  silence  them,  for 
fear  of  displeasing  you  ;  but  tbat  they  will  deal  freely  and  faithful- 
ly with  you.  And  see  that  you  distaste  them  not,  and  discounte- 
nance not  their  plain  dealing,  lest  you  discourage  them,  and  de- 
prive your  soul  of  so  great  a  benefit.  Thi^Jc  best  of  those  as  your 
greatest  friends,  who  are  least  friends  to  your  sin,  and  do  most  for 
your  recovery  from  it.  If  you  say,  '  Alas  !  I  am  not  able  to  mor- 
tify my  sins.  It  is  not  in  my  power,'  I  answer,  1.  I  speak  not  oi 
a  perfect  conquest ;  nor  of  a  freedom  from  every  passion  or  infir- 
mity. 2.  Take  heed  of  pretending  disability  when  it  is  unwilling- 
ness. If  you  were  heartily  willing,  you  would  be  able  to  do  much, 
and  God  would  strengthen  you.  Cannot  you  resist  pride,  world- 
liness, and  sensuality,  if  you  be  willing?  Cannot  you  forbear' 
most  of  the  actual  sins  you  commit,  and  perform  the  duties  that 
you  omit,  if  you  be  willing  ?  (though  not  so  well  as  you  would  per- 
form them.)  Yea,  let  me  say  thus  much,  lest  I  endanger  you  by 
sparing  you.  Many  a  miserable  hypocrite  doth  live  in  trouble  of 
mind  and  complaining,  and  after  all  perish  for  their  willful  dis- 
obedience. Did  not  the  rich  young  man  go  far  before  he  would 
break  off  with  Christ  ?  And  when  he  did  leave  him,  he  went  away 
sorrowful.  And  what  was  the  cause  of  his  sorrow?  Why,  the 
matter  was,  that  he  could  not  be  saved  without  selling  all,  and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  369 

giving  it  to  the  poor,  when  he  had  great  possessions.  It  was  not 
that  he  could  not  be  rid  of  his  s-n,  but  tiiat  he  could  not  have 
Christ  and  heaven  without  forsaking  the  world.  This  is  the  case 
of  unsanctified  persons  that  are  enlightened  to  sec  the  need  ot 
Christ,  but  are  not  weaned  from  worldly  profits,  honors,  and  pleas- 
ures ;  they  are  perhaps  troubled  in  mind,  (and  I  cannot  blame 
them,)  but  it  is  not  that  they  cannot  leave  sinning,  but  that  they 
cannot  have  heaven  without  leaving  their  delights  and  contentments 
on  earth.  Sin  as  sin  they  would  willingly  leave ;  for  no  man  can 
love  evil  as  evil.  But  their  fleshly  profits,  honors,  and  pleasures, 
they  will  not  leave,  and  there  is  the  stop  ;  and  this  is  the  cause  of 
their  sorrows  and  fears.  For  their  own  judgment  cries  out  against 
them,  "  He  that  loveth  the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father  is  not  in 
him.  If  ye  live  after  the  flesh  ye  shall  die.  God  resisteth  the 
proud."  This  is  the  voice  of  their  informed  understandings.  And 
conscience  seconds  it,  and  saith,  ''  Thou  art  the  man."  But  the 
flesh  cries  louder  than  both  these,  '  Wilt  thou  leave  thy  pleasures  ? 
Wilt  thou  undo  thyself?  Wilt  thou  be  made  a  scorn  or  laughing- 
stock to  all  ? '  Or  rather  it  strongly  drav/s  and  provoketh,  when  it 
hath  nothing  to  say.  No  wonder  if  this  poor  sinner  be  here  in  a 
strait,  and  live  in  distress  of  mind.  But  as  long  as  the  flesh  holds 
so  fast,  that  all  this  conviction  and  trouble  will  not  cause  it  to  lose 
its  hold,  the  poov  sorl  is  still  in  the  bonds  of  iniquity.  The  case 
of  such  an  hypocrite,  or  half  Christian,  is  like  the  case  of  the  poor 
Papist,  that,  having  glutted  himself  with  flesh  in  the  Lent,  was  in 
this  strait,  that  either  he  must  vomit  it  up,  and  so  disclose  his  fault, 
and  undergo  penance ;  or  else  he  must  be  sick  of  his  surfeit,  and 
hazard  his  life.  But  he  resolveth  rather  to  venture  on  the  danger, 
than  to  bear  the  penance.  Or  their  case  is  like  that  of  a  proud 
woman,  that  hath  got  a  strait  garment,  or  pinching  shoe,  and  because 
she  will  not  be  out  of  the  fashion,  she  will  rather  choose  to  bear 
the  pain,  though  she  halt  or  suffer  at  every  step.  Or  like  the  more 
impudent  sort  of  them,  who  will. endure  the  cold,  and  perhaps  haz- 
ard their  lives,  by  the  nakedness  of  their  necks,  and  breasts,  and 
arms,  rather  than  they  will  control  their  shameless  pride.  What 
cure  now  should  a  wise  man  wish  to  such  people  as  these  ?  Surely 
that  the  shoe  might  pinch  a  little  harder,  till  the  pain  might  force 
them  to  cast  it  off.  And  that  they  might  catch  some  cold  that 
would  pay  them  for  then-  folly,  (so  it  would  but  spare  their  lives,) 
till  it  should  force  them  to  be  ashamed  of  their  pride,  and  cover 
their  nakedness.  Even  so  when  disobedient  hypocrites  do  com- 
plain that  they  are  afraid  they  have  no  grace,  and  afraid  God  doth 
not  pardon  them,  and  will  not  save  them,  I  should  tell  them,  if  I 
knew  them,  that  I  am  afraid  so  too  ;  and  that  it  is  not  without  cause, 
and  desire,  that  their  fears  were  such  as  might  afl^i'ight  them  from 
VOL.  I.  47 


370  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

their  disobedience,  and  force  them  to  cast  away  their  willful  sin- 
ning. I  have  said  the  more  on  this  point,  because  1  know  if  this 
advice  do  but  help  you  to  mortify  your  sin,  the  best  and  greatest 
work  is  done,  whether  you  get  assurance  and  comfort  or  no ;  and 
withal,  that  it  is  the  most  probable  means  to  this  assurance  and 
comfort. 

I  should  next  have  warned  you  of  the  other  extreme,  viz.  need- 
less scruples ;  but  I  mean  to  make  that  a  peculiar  Direction  by  it- 
self, when  1  have  first  added  a  little  more  of  this  great  means  of 
peace — a  sound  obedience. 

Direct.  XXIV.  My  next  advice  for  the  obtaining  of  a  settled 
peace  of  comfort  is  this :  '  Take  heed  that  you  content  not  yourself 
with  a  cheap  course  of  religion,  and  such  a  serving  of  God  as  cost- 
eth  you  little  or  nothing.  But  in  your  abstaining  from  sin,  in  your 
rising  out  of  sin,  and  in  your  discharge  of  duty,  incline  most  to  that 
way  which  is  most  self-denying,  and  displeasing  to  the  flesh,  (so 
you  be  sure  it  be  a  lawful  way.)  And  when  you  are  called  out  to 
any  vv^ork  which  will  stand  you  in  extraordinary  labor  and  cost, 
you  must  be  so  far  from  shrinking  and  drawing  your  neck  out  of 
the  yoke,  that  you  must  look  upon  it  as  a  special  price  that  is  put 
into  your  hand,  and  singular  advantage  and  opportunity  for  the  in- 
crease of  your  comforts.' 

This  rule  is  like  the  rest  of  the  Christian  doctrine,  which  is  not 
thoroughly  understood  by  any  way  but  experience.  Libertines  and 
sensual  professors  that  never  tried  it,  did  never  well  understand  it. 
I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  be  large  in  explaining  and  applying  it, 
but  that  I  have  been  so  large  beyond  my  first  intentions  in  the  for- 
mer Directions,  that  I  will  cut  off  the  rest  as  short  as  I  well  can. 

Let  none  be  so  wickedly  injurious  to  me,  as  to  say,  I  speak  or 
think  of  any  merit,  properly  so  called,  in  any  the  costhest  work 
of  man.  Fasten  not  that  on  me,  which  I  both  disclaim,  and  de- 
sire the  reader  to  take  heed  of.  But  I  must  tell  you  these  two 
things. 

L  That  a  cheap  religion  is  far  more  uncertain  evidence  of  sincer- 
ity than  a  dear.  It  will  not  discover  so  well  to  a  man's  soul,  wheth- 
er he  prefer  Christ  before  the  world,  and  whether  he  take  him 
and  his  benefits  for  his  portion  and  treasure. 

2.  That  a  cheap  religion  is  not  usually  accompanied  with  any 
notable  degree  of  comforts,  although  the  person  be  a  sincere-heart- 
ed Christian. 

Every  hypocrite  can  submit  to  a  religion  that  will  cost  him  little ; 
much  more,  which  will  get  reputation  with  men  of  greatest  wisdom 
and  piety  ;  yea,  he  may  stick  to  it,  so  it  will  not  undo  him  in  the 
world.  If  a  man  have  knowledge,  and  gifts  of  utterance,  and 
strength  of  body,  it  is  no  costly  matter  to  speak  many  good  words, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  371 

or  to  be  earnest  in  opposing  the  sins  of  others,  and  to  preach  zeal- 
ously and  frequently,  (much  more  if  he  have  double  honor  by  it, 
reverent  obedience,  and  maintenance,  as  ministers  of  the  gospel 
have,  or  ought  to  have.)  It  is  hard  to  discern  sincerity  in  such  a 
course  of  piety  and  duty.  Woe  to  those  persecutors  that  shall  put 
us  to  the  trial  how  far  we  can  go  in  suffering  for  Christ ;  but  it 
should  be  a  matter  of  rejoicing  to  us,  when  we  are  put  upon  it. 
To  be  patient  in  tribulation  is  not  enough ;  but  to  rejoice  in  it  is 
also  the  duty  of  a  saint.  Let  those  that  think  this  draweth  men  to 
rejoice  too  much  in  themselves,  but  hear  what  the  Lord  Jesus  him- 
self saith,  and  his  Spirit  in  his  apostles  :  "Blessed  are  they  which 
are  persecuted  for  righteousness'  sake ;  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall  revile  you,  and  perse- 
cute you,  and  say  all  manner  of  evil  against  you  falsely  f6r  my 
name's  sake :  rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad,  for  great  is  your  re- 
ward in  heaven;"  Matt.  v.  10 — ^12.  "  My  brethren,  count  it  all 
joy  when  ye  fall  into  divers  temptations,  (not  inward  temptations  of 
the  devil  and  our  lust,  but  trials  by  persecution,)  knowing  that  the 
trying  of  your  faith  worketh  patience.  Blessed  is  the  man  that  en- 
dureth  temptation ;  for  when  he  is  tried,  he  shall  receive  the  crown 
of  life,  which  the  Lord  hath  promised  to  them  that  love  him ; " 
James  i.  2,  3.  12.  See  Luke  vi.  23.  1  Pet.  iv.  13.  Acts  v.  41. 
2  Cor.  vi.  10.  vii.  4.  Col.  i.  11.  Heb.  x.  34.  2  Cor.  xiii.  9. 
xii.  15.  O,  how  gloriously  doth  a  tried  faith  shine,  to  the  comfort 
of  the  believer,  and  the  admiration  of  the  beholders  !  How  easily 
may  a  Christian  try  himself  at  such  a  time,  when  God  is  trying 
him !  One  hour's  experience,  when  we  have  found  that  our  faith 
can  endure  the  furnace,  and  that  we  can  hazard  or  let  go  all  for 
Christ,  will  more  effectually  resolve  all  ourdoubtings  of  our  sincer- 
ity, than  many  a  month's  trial  by  mere  questioning  of  our  own  de- 
ceitful hearts. 

Object.  '  But,  you  may  say,  what  if  God  call  me  not  to  suffering 
or  hazards?  Must  I  cast  myself  upon  it  without  a  call?  Or  must 
I  be  therefore  without  comfort  ? ' 

Answ.  No  ;  you  shall  not  need  to  cast  yourself  upon  suffering, 
nor  yet  to  be  without  comfort  for  want  of  it.  I  know  no  man  but 
may  serve  God  at  dearer  rates  to  the  flesh  than  most  of  us  do,  with- 
out stepping  out  of  the  way  of  his  duty.  Nay,  he  must  do  it,  ex- 
cept he  will  avoid  his  duty.  Never  had  the  church  yet  such  times 
of  prosperity,  but  that  faithful  duty  would  hazard  men,  and  cause 
their  trouble  in  the  flesh.  Can  you  not,  nay,  ought  you  not,  to 
put  yourself  to  greater  labor  for  men's  souls  ?  If  you  should  but 
go  day  after  day  among  the  poor,  ignorant  people  where  you  live, 
and  instruct  them  in  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  bear  with  all  their 
weakness  and  rudeness,  and  continue  thus  with  patience,  this  might 


372  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING       ' 

cost  you  some  Jabor,  and  perhaps  contempt  from  many  of  the  un- 
thankful.    And  yet  you  should  not  do  more  than  your  duty,  if  you 
have  opportunity  for  it,  as  most  have,  or  may  have,  if  they  will. 
If  you  should  further  hire  them  to  learn  catechisms  ;   if  you  should 
extend  your  liberality  to  the  utmost,  for  relief  of  the  poor;  this 
would  cost  you  somewhat.     If  you  carry  on  every  just  cause  with 
resolution,  though  never  so  many  great  friends  would  draw  you  to 
betray  it;   this  may  cost  you  the  loss  of  those  friends.     If  you 
would  but  deal  plainly  with  the  ungodly,  and  against  all  sin,  as  far 
as  you  have  opportunity,  especially  if  it  be  the  sins  of  rulers  and 
gentlemen  of  name  and  power  in  the  world,  it  may  cost  you  some- 
what.   Nay,  though  you  were  ambassadors  of  Christ,  whose  office  is 
to  deal  plainly,  and  not  to  please  men  in  evil,  upon  pain  of  Christ's 
displeasure ;  you  may  perhaps  turn  your  great  friends  to  be  your 
great  enemies.     Go  to  such  a  lord,  or  such  a  knight,  or  such  a 
gentleman,  and  tell  him  freely,  that  God  looketh  for  another  man- 
ner of  spending  his  time,  than  in  hunting  and  hawking,  and  sport- 
ing and  feasting,  and  that  this  precious  time  must  be  dearly  reckon- 
ed for.     Tell  him  that  God  looks  he  should  be  the  most  eminent 
in  holiness,  and  in  a  heavenly  life,  and  give  an  example  thereof  to 
all  that  are  below  him,  as  God  hath  made  him  more  eminent  in 
worldly  dignity  and  possessions.     Tell  him,  that  where  much  is 
given,  much  is  required  ;  and  that  a  low  profession,  and  dull  appro- 
bation of  that  which  is  good,  will  serve  no  man,  much  less  such  a 
man.     Tell  him  that  his  riches  must  be  expended  to  feed  and 
clothe  the  poor  and  promote  good  uses,  and  not  merely  for  himself 
and  family,  or  else  he  will  make  but  a  sad  account.     And  that  he 
must  freely  engage  his  reputation,  estate,  and  life,  and  all  for  Christ 
and   his  gospel,  when  he  calls  you  to  it ;  yea,  and  forsake  all  for 
him,  if  Christ  put  him  to  it,  or  else  he  can  be  no  disciple  of  Christ  : 
and  then  what  good  will  his  honors  and  riches  do  him,  when  his 
soul  shall  be  called  for?     Try  this  course  with  great  men,  yea, 
with  great  men  that  seem  religious,  and  that  no  further  than  faith- 
fulness and  compassion  to  men's  souls  doth  bind  you,  and  do  it  with 
all  the  wisdom  you  can,  that  is  not  carnal ;  and  then  tell  me  what 
it  doth  cost  you.     Let  those  ministers  that  are  near  them,  plainly 
and  roundly  tell  both  the  parliament-men  and  commanders  of  the 
army,  of  their  unquestionable  transgressions,  and  that  according  to 
their  nature,  (and  woe  to  them  if  they  do  not,)  and  then  let  them 
tell  me  what  it  doth  cost  them.     Alas,  sirs,  how  great  a  number  of 
professors  are  base,  daubing,  self-seeking  hypocrites,  that  cull  out 
the  safe,  the  cheap,  the  easy  part  of  duty,  and  leave  all  the  rest ! 
And  so  ordinarily  is  this  done,  that  we  have  made  us  a  new  Chris- 
tianity by  it ;  and  the  religion  of  Christ's  own  making,  the  self-de- 
nying course  prescribed  by  our  Master,  is  almost  unknown ;   and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  373 

he  that  should  practice  it  would  be  taken  for  a  madman,  or  some 
self-conceited  cynic,  or  some  saucy,  if  not  seditious  fellow.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  because  Christ  hath  not  prescribed  us  a  more  self- 
denying,  hazardous,  laborious  way,  that  men  so  commonly  take  up 
in  the  cheapest  religion  ;  but  it  is  through  our  false-heartedness  to 
Christ,  and  the  strength  of  sensual,  carnal  interests  in  us,  which 
make  us  put  false  interpretations  on  tlie  plainest  precepts  of  Christ, 
which  charge  any  unpleasing  duty  on  us,  and  familistically  turn 
them  into  allegories ;  or  at  least  we  will  not  yield  to  obey  him. 
And  truly,  I  think  that  our  shifting  of  Christ  in  this  unworthy 
manner,  and  even  altering  that  very  frame  and  nature  of  Christian 
religion,  (by  turning  that  into  a  flesh-pleasing  religion,  which  is 
more  against  the  flesh  than  all  the  religions  else  in  the  world,)  and 
dealing  so  reservedly,  superficially  and  unfaithfully  in  all  his  work, 
is  a  great  cause  why  Christ  doth  now  appear  no  more  openly  for 
men,  and  pour  out  no  larger  a  measure  of  his  Spirit  in  gifts  and 
consolations.  When  men  appeared  ordinarily  in  the  most  open 
manner  for  Christ,  in  greatest  dangers  and  sufferings,  then  Christ 
appeared  more  openly  and  eminently  for  them,  (yet  is  none  more 
for  meekness,  humility  and  love,  and  against  unmerciful  or  dividing 
zeal,  than  Christ.) 

2.  And  as  you  see  that  a  cheap  religiousness  doth  not  so  discov- 
er sincerity,  so,  secondly,  it  is  not  acconipanied  with  that  special 
blessing  of  God.  As  God  hath  engaged  himself  in  his  word,  that 
they  shall  not  lose  their  reward  that  give  but  a  cup  of  water  in  his 
name,  so  he  hath  more  fully  engaged  himself  to  those  that  are  most 
deeply  engaged  for  him ;  even  that  they  that  forsake  all  for  him 
shall  have  manifold  recompense  in  this  life,  and  in  the  world  to 
come  eternal  life.  Let  the  experience  of  all  the  world  of  Chris- 
tians be  produced,  and  all  will  attest  the  same  tmth,  That  it  is 
God's  usual  course  to  give  men  larger  comforts  in  dearer  duties 
than  in  cheap  :  nay,  seldom  doth  he  give  large  comforts  in  cheap 
duties,  and  seldom  doth  he  deny  them  in  dearer ;  so  be  it  they  are 
not  made  dear  by  our  own  sin  and  foolish  indiscretion,  but  by  his 
command,  and  our  faithfulness  in  obeying  him.  Who  knows  not 
that  the  consolation  of  martyrs  is  usually  above  other  men's,  who 
hath  read  of  their  suflerings  and  strange  sustentations  ?  Christian, 
do  but  try  this  by  thy  own  experiences,  and  tell  me,  when  thou 
hast  most  resolutely  followed  Christ  in  a  good  cause  ;  when  thou 
hast  stood  against  the  faces  of  the  greatest  for  God  ;  when  thou 
hast  cast  thy  life,  thy  family  and  estate  upon  Christ,  and  run  thy- 
self into  the  most  apparent  hazards  for  his  sake  ;  hast  thou  not  come 
off  with  more  inward  peace  and  comfort  than  the  cheaper  part  of 
thy  religion  hath  aftbrded  thee  ?  When  thou  hast  stood  to  the  truth 
and  gospel,  and  hast  done  good  through  the  greatest  opposition, 


374        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

and  lost  thy  greatest  and  dearest  friends,  because  thou  wouldst  not 
forsake  Christ  and  his  service,  or  deal  falsely  in  some  cause  that  he 
hath  trusted  thee  in ;  hast  thou  not  come  off  with  the  blessing  of 
peace  of  conscience  ?  Nay,  when  thou  hast  denied  thy  most  im- 
portunate appetite,  and  most  crossed  thy  lusts,  and  most  humbled 
and  abased  thyself  for  God,  and  denied  thy  credit,  and  taken  shame 
to  thyself  in  a  free  confessing  of  thy  faults,  or  patiently  put  up  with 
the  greatest  abuses,  or  humbled  and  tamed  thy  flesh  by  necessary 
abstinence,  or  any  way  most  displeasing  it,  by  crossing  its  interest, 
by  bountiful  giving,  laborious  duty,  dangers  or  sufferings,  for  the 
sake  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  his  truth  and  people ;  hath  it  not  been  far 
better  with  thee  in  thy  peace  aiid  comforts  than  before  ?  I  know 
some  will  be  ready  to  say,  that  may  be  from  carnal  pride  in  our 
own  doing,  or  suffering.  I  answer.  It  may  be  so ;  and  therefore 
let  all  watch  against  that.  But  I  am  certain  that  this  is  God's 
ordinary  dealing  with  his  people,  and  therefore  we  may  ordinarily 
expect  it.  It  is  for  their  encouragement  in  faithful  duty ;  and  I  may 
truly  say,  for  their  reward,  when  himself  calls  that  a  reward  which 
he  gives  for  a  cup  of  water.  Lay  well  to  heart  that  example  of 
Abraham,  for  which  he  is  so  often  extolled  in  the  Scripture,  viz. 
his  readiness  to  sacrifice  his  only  son.  This  was  a  dear  obedi- 
ence. And,  saith  God,  because  (mark  because)  thou  hast  done  this 
thing,  in  blessing  I  will  bless  thee,  fcc.  David  would  not  offer  to 
God  that  which  cost  him  nothing ;  2  Sam.  xxiv.  24.  1  Chron. 
xxi.  24.  God  will  have  the  best  of  your  hearts,  the  best  of  your 
labors,  the  best  of  your  estates,  the  best  of  all,  or  he  will  not  accept 
it.  Abel's  sacrifice  was  of  the  best,  and  it  was  accepted  ;  and  God 
saith  to  Cain,  ''  If  thou  doest  well,  slialt  not  thou  be  accepted  ?  " 

Seeing  this  is  so,  let  me  advise  you,  '  Take  it  not  for  a  calamity, 
but  for  a  precious  advantage,  when  God  calls  thee  to  a  hazardous 
costly  service,  which  is  like  to  cost  thee  much  of  thy  estate,  to  cost 
thee  the  loss  of  thy  chiefest  friends,  the  loss  of  thy  credit,  the 
indignation  of  great  ones,  or  the  most  painful  diligence  and  trouble 
of  body:  shift  it  not  off,  but  take  this  opportunity  thankfully,  lest 
thou  never  have  such  another  for  the  clearing  of  thy  sincerity,  and 
the  obtaining  of  more  than  ordinary  consolations  from  God :  thou 
hast  now  a  prize  in  thy  hand  for  spiritual  riches,  if  thou  hast  but  a 
heart  to  improve  it.  I  know  all  this  is  a  paradox  to  the  unbeliev- 
ing world ;  but  here  is  the  very  excellency  of  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, and  the  glory  of  faith.  It  looks  for  its  greatest  spoils  and 
richest  prizes  from  its  conquests  of  fleshly  interests :  it  is  not  only 
able  to  do  it,  but  expecteth  its  advancement  and  consolations  by 
this  way.  It  is  engaged  in  a  war  with  the  world  and  flesh  ;  and  in 
this  war  it  plays  not  the  vaporing  fencer,  that  seems  to  do  much, 
but  never  strikes  home,  as  hypocrites  and  carnal,  worldly  professors 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  375 

do ;  but  he  says  it  home,  and  spares  not,  as  one  that  knows  tliat 
the  flesh's  ruin  must  be  his  rising,  and  the  flesh's  thriving  would 
be  his  ruin.  In  these  tilings  the  true  Ciu-istian  alone  is  in  good 
sadness,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world  but  in  jest.  The  Lord  pity  . 
poor  deluded  souls  I  You  may  see,  by  this  one  thing,  how  rare  a 
thing  true  Christianity  is  among  the  multitude  that  take  themselves 
for  Christians ;  and  how  certain,  therefore,  it  is  that  few  shall  be  saved. 
Even  this  one  point  of  tme  mortification  and  self-denial  is  a  stran- 
ger amongst  the  most  of  professors.  O,  how  sad  a  testimony  of 
it  are  the  actions  of  these  late  times,  wherein  so  much  hath  been 
done  for  self,  and  safety,  and  carnal  interests,  and  so  little  for 
Christ !  yea,  and  that  after  the  deepest  engagements  of  mercies 
and  vows  that  ever  lay  on  a  people  in  the  world.  Insomuch,  that 
through  the  just  judgment  of  God,  they  are  now  given  up  to  doubt, 
whether  it  be  the  duty  of  rulers  to  do  any  thing  as  rulers  for  Christ, 
or  no,  or  whether  they  should  not  let  Christ  alone  to  do  it  himself. 
Well,  this  which  is  such  a  mystery  to  the  unregenerate  world,  is  a 
thing  that  every  genuine  Christian  is  acquainted  with ;  for  "  they 
that  are  Christ's  have  crucified  the  flesh  with  the  affections  and 
lusts  thereof; "  and  the  world  is  dead  to  them,  and  they  to  the 
world  ;  Gal.  v.  21. 

Take  this  counsel,  therefore,  in  all  the  several  cases  mentioned 
in  the  Direction. 

1.  In  your  preventing  sin,  and  maintaining  your  innocency,  if 
you  cannot  do  it  without  denying  your  credit,  and  exposing  your- 
self to  disgrace,  or  without  the  loss  of  friends,  or  a  breach  in  your 
estate,  do  it  nevertheless ;  yea,  if  it  would  cost  you  your  utter  ruin 
m  the  world,  thank  God  that  put  such  an  opportunity  into  your 
hand  for  extraordinary  consolations.  For,  ordinarily,  the  martyrs' 
comforts  exceed  other  men's  as  much  as  their  burden  of  duty 
and  suffering  doth.  Cyprian  is  fain  to  write  for  the  comfort  of 
some  Christians  in  his  times,  that  at  death  were  troubled  that 
they  missed  of  their  hopes  of  martyrdom.  So  also,  if  you  cannot 
mortify  any  lust  without  much  pinching  the  flesh,  do  it  cheerfully; 
for  the  dearer  the  victory  costeth  you,  the  sweeter  will  be  the  issue 
and  review. 

2.  The  same  counsel  I  give  you  also  in  your  rising  from  sin^ 
It  is  the  sad  condhion  of  those  that  yield  to  a  temptation,  and  once 
put  their  foot  within  the  doors  of  Satan,  that  they  ensnare  them- 
selves so,  that  they  must  undergo  thrice  as  great  difficulties  to  draw 
back,  as  they  needed  to  have  done  beforehand  for  prevention  and 
forbearance.  Sin  unhappily  engageth  the  sinner  to  go  on ;  and 
one  sin  doth  make  another  seem  necessary.  O,  how  hard  a  thing 
is  it  for  him  that  hath  wronged  another  by  stealing,  deceit,  over- 
reaching in  bargaining,  or  the  like,  to  confess  his  fault,  and  ask  him 


»*■ 


376         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

forgiveness,  and  to  tlie  utmost  of  his  ability  to  make  restitution ! 
What  abundance  of  difficulties  will  be  in  the  way !  It  will  likely 
cost  him  the  loss  of  his  credit,  besides  the  breach  in  his  estate,  and 
■  perhaps  lay  him  open  to  the  rage  of  him  that  he  hath  wronged. 
Rather  he  will  be  drawn  to  cover  his  sin  with  a  lie,  or  at  least  by 
excuses.  And  so  it  is  in  many  other  sins.  Now,  in  any  of  these 
cases,  when  men  indulge  the  flesh,  and  cannot  find  in  their  hearts 
to  take  that  loss  or  shame  to  themselves,  which  a  thorough  repent 
ance  doth  require,  they  do  but  feed  the  troubles  of  their  soul,  and 
hide  their  wounds  and  sores,  and  not  ease  them.  Usually  such 
persons  go  on  in  a  galled,  unpeaceable  condition,  and  reach  not  to 
solid  comfort.  (I  speak  only  of  those  to  whom  such  confession  or 
restitution  is  a  duty.)  And  I  cannot  wonder  at  it ;  for  they  have 
great  cause  to  question  the  truth  of  that  repentance,  and  conse- 
quently the  soundness  of  that  heart,  which  will  not  bring  them  to 
a  self-denying  duty,  nor  to  God's  way  of  rising  from  their  sin.  It 
seems  at  present  the  interest  of  the  flesh  is  actually  predominant, 
when  no  reason  or  conviction  will  persuade  them  to  contradict  it. 
As  ever  you  would  have  sound  comfort,  then,  in  such  a  case  as 
this,  spare  not  the  flesh.  When  you  have  sinned,  you  must  rise 
again  or  perish.  If  you  cannot  rise  without  fasting,  without  free 
confessing,  without  the  utter  shaming  of  yourselves,  without  restitu- 
tion, never  stick  at  it.  This  is  your  hour  of  trial ;  O,  yield  not  to 
the  conflict.  The  dearer  the  victory  costeth  you,  the  greater  will 
be  your  peace.  Try  it,  and  if  you  find  it  not  so,  I  am  mistaken. 
Yet  if  you  have  sinned  so  that  the  opening  of  it  may  more  discredit 
the  gospel,  than  your  confession  will  honor  it,  and  yet  your  con- 
science is  unquiet,  and  urgeth  you  to  confess,  in  such  a  case,  be 
first  well  informed,  and  proceed  warily  and  upon  deliberation ;  and 
first  open  the  case  to  some  faithful  minister  or  able  Christian  in 
secret,  that  you  may  have  good  advice. 

3.  The  same  counsel,  also,  would  I  give  you  in  the  performance 
of  your  duty.  A  magistrate  is  convinced  he  must  punish  sinners, 
and  put  down  alehouses,  and  be  true  to  every  just  cause  ;  but  then 
he  must  steel  his  face  against  all  men's  reproaches,  and  the  solici- 
tations of  all  friends.  A  minister  is  convinced  that  he  must  teach 
firom  house  to  house,  as  well  as  publicly,  if  he  be  able ;  and  that 
he  must  deal  plainly  with  sinners  according  to  their  conditions ; 
yea,  and  require  the  church  to  avoid  communion  with  them,  if 
they  be  obstinate  in  evil,  after  other  sufficient  means ;  but  then  he 
shall  lose  the  love  of  his  people,  and  be  accounted  proud,  precise, 
rigid,  lordly,  and  perhaps  lose  his  maintenance.  Obey  God  now  ; 
and  the  dearer  it  costeth  you,  the  more  peace  and  protection,  and 
the  larger  blessing,  may  you  expect  from  God ;  for  you  do,  as  it 
were,  oblige  God  the  more  to  stick  to  you ;  as  you  will  take  your- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  377 

self  obliged  to  own,  and  bear  out,  and  .reward  those  tliat  hazard 
estate,  and  credit,  and  hfe,  for  you.  And  if  you  cannot  obey  God 
in  such  a  trial,  it  ns  a  sad  sign  of  a  false-hearted  hypocrite,  except 
your  fall  be  only  in  a  temptation,  from  which  you  rise  with  renew- 
ed repentance  and  resolutions,  which  will  conquer  for  the  time  to 
come;  as  Peter,  who,  being  left  to  himself  for  an  example  of  hu- 
man frailty,  and  that  Christ  might  have  no  friend  to  stick  by  him 
when  he  suffered  for  our  sin,  yet  presently  wept  bitterly,  and  al- 
teI•^vards  spent  his  strength  and  time  in  preaching  Christ,  and  laid 
down  his  life  in  martyrdom  for  him. 

So,  perhaps,  many  a  poor  servant,  or  hard  laborer,  hath  scarce 
any  time,  except  the  Lord's  day,  to  pray  or  read.  Let  such  pinch 
the  flesh  a  little  the  more,  (so  they  do  not  overthrow  their  health,) 
and  either  work  the  harder,  or  fare  the  harder,  or  be  clothed  the 
more  meanly,  or  especially  break  a  little  of  their  sleep,  that  they 
may  find  some  thne  for  these  duties ;  and  try  whether  the  peace 
and  comfort  will  not  recompense  it.  Never  any  man  was  a  loser 
for  God.  So  private  Christians  cannot  conscionably  discharge  the 
great  plain  duty  of  reproof  and  exhortation,  joyingly,  yet  plainly 
telling  their  friends  and  neighbors  of  their  sins,  and  danger,  and 
duty,  but  they  will  turn  friends  into  foes,  and  possibly  set  all  the 
town  on  their  heads.  But  is  it  a  duty,  or  is  it  not  ?  If  it  be,  then 
trust  God  with  the  issue,  and  do  your  work,  and  see  whether  he 
will  suffer  you  to  be  losers. 

For  my  part,  I  think  that  if  Christians  took  God's  word  before 
them,  and  spared  the  flesh  less,  and  trusted  themselves  and  all  to 
Christ  alone,  and  did  not  balk  all  tlie  troublesome  and  costly  part 
of  religion,  and  that  which  most  crosseth  the  interest  of  the  flesh,  it 
would  be  more  ordinary  with  them  to  be  filled  with  the  joys  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  walk  in  that  peace  of  conscience  which  is  a  con- 
tinual feast ;  and  to  have  such  full  and  frequent  views  both  of  the 
sincerity  of  their  evidencing  graces  and  of  God's  reconciled  face, 
as  would  banish  their  doubts  and  fears,  and  be  a  greater  help  to 
their  certainty  of -salvation,  than  much  other  labor  doth  prove.  If 
you  flinch  not  the  fiery  furnace,  you  shall  have  the  company  of  the 
Son  of  God  in  it.  If  you  flinch  not  the  prison  and  stocks,  you  may 
be  able  to  sing  as  Paul  and  Silas  did.  If  you  refuse  not  to  be 
stoned  with  Stephen,  you  may  perhaps  see  heaven  opened  as  he 
did.  If  you  think  these  comforts  so  dear  bought,  that  you  will 
rather  venture  without  them,  let  me  tell  you,  you  may  take  your 
course,  but  the  end  will  convince  you  to  the  very  heart,  of  the  folly 
of  your  choice.  Never,  then,  complain  for  want  of  comfort ;  re- 
member you  might  have  had  it,  and  would  not.  Ami  let  me  give 
you  this  with  you;  You  will  shortly  find,  though  worldly  pleasures, 
riches  and  honors,  were  some  slight  sahes  to  your  molested  con- 
voL.  I.  48 


-  jr 

378        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

science  here,  yet  there  will  no  cure  nor  ease  for  it  be  found  here- 
after. Your  merry  hours  will  then  all  be  gone,  and  your  worldly 
delights  forsake  you  in  distress  ;  but  these  solid  ccfmforts  which  you 
judged  too  dear,  would  have  ended  in  the  everlasting  joys  of  glory. 
When  men  do  flinch  God  and  his  truth  in  straits,  and  juggle  with 
their  consciences,  and  will  take  out  all  the  honorable,  easy,  cheap 
part  of  the  work  of  Christ,  and  make  a  religion  of  that  by  itself, 
leaving  out  all  the  disgraceful,  difficult,  chargeable,  self-denying 
part,  and  hereupon  call  themselves  Christians,  and  make  a  great 
show  in  the  world  with  this  kind  of  religiousness,  and  take  them- 
selves injured  if  men  question  their  honesty  and  uprightness  in  the 
faith ;  these  men  are  notorious  self-deceivers,  mere  hypocrites ; 
and,  in  plain  truth,  this  is  the  very  true  description  by  which  dam- 
nable hypocrites  are  known  from  sound  Christians.  The  Lord 
open  men's  eyes  to  see  it  in  time  while  it  may  be  cured  !  Yea,  and 
the  nearer  any  true  Christian  doth  come  to  this  sin,  the  more  doth 
he  disoblige  God,  and  quench  the  spirit  of  comfort,  and  darken  his 
own  evidences,  and  destroy  his  peace  of  conscience,  and  create 
unavoidable  troubles  to  his  spirit,  and  estrangedness  betwixt  the 
Lord  Jesus  and  his  own  soul.  Avoid  this,  therefore,  if  ever  you 
will  have  peace. 

Direct.  XXV.  My  next  advice  shall  be  somewhat  near  of  kin 
to  the  former.  If  you  would  learn  the  most  expeditious  way  to 
peace  and  settled  comfort,  '  Study  well  the  art  of  doing  good  ;  and 
let  it  be  your  every  day's  contrivance,  care  and  business,  how  you 
may  lay  out  all  that  God  hath  trusted  you  with,  to  the  greatest 
pleasing  of  God,  and  to  your  most  comfortable  account.' 

Still  remember,  (lest  any  Antinomian  should  tell  you  that  this 
savors  of  Popery,  and  trusting  for  peace  to  our  own  works ;) 

1.  That  you  must  not  think  of  giving  any  of  Christ's  honor  or 
office  to  your  best  works.  You  must  not  dream  that  they  can  do 
any  thing  to  the  satisfaction  .of  God's  justice  for  your  sins;  nor  that 
they  have  any  proper  merit  in  them,  so  as  for  then-  worth  to  oblige 
God  to  reward  you  ;  nor  that  you  must  have  any  righteousness  or 
worthiness  in  yourself  and  works,  which  the  law  of  works  will  so 
denominate  or  own.  But  only  you  must  give  obedience  its  due 
under  Christ ;  and  so  you  honor  Christ  himself,  when  those  that 
detract  from  obedience  to  him,  do  dishonor  hun ;  and  you  must 
have  an  evangelical  worthiness  and  righteousness,  (so  called,  many 
and  many  times  over  in  the  gospel,)  which  partly  consisteth  in  the 
sincerity  of  your  obedience  and  good  works ;  as  the  condition  of 
continuing  your  state  of  justification,  and  right  to  eternal  life. 

2.  Remember  I  have  given  you  many  arguments  before,  to 
prove  that  you  may  take  comfort  from  your  good  works  and  gra- 
cious actions. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  379 

3.  If  any  further  objections  should  be  made  against  this,  read 
considerately  and  believingly,  Matt.  xxv.  v.  and  vii.  tiu'oughout, 
or  the  former  only  ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  you  will  be  fully  resolved. 
But  to  the  work. 

Those  men  that  study  no  other -obedience  than  only  to  do  no 
(positive)  harm,  are  so  far  from  true  comfort,  that  they  have  yet 
no  true  Christianity  ;  I  mean  such  as  will  be  saving  to  them.  Do- 
ing good  is  a  high  part  of  a  Christian's  obedience,  and  must  be  the 
chief  part  of  his  life.  The  heathen  could  tell  him  that  asked 
him,  how  men  might  be  like  to  God  ;  that  one  way  was,  to  do 
good  to  all.  That  is  beyond  our  power,  being  proper  to  God,  the 
universal  good,  whose  mercy  is  over  all  his  works.  But  our  good- 
ness must  be  communicative,  if  we  will  be  like  God,  and  it  must 
be  extended  and  diffused  as  far  as  we  can.  The  apostle's  charge 
is  plain,  and  we  must  obey  it  if  we  will  havfe  any  peace ;  "  While 
you  have  time,  do  good  to  all  men,  especially  to  them  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith;"  Gal.  vi.  10.  "Cease  to  do  evil,  learn  to  do  well, 
seek  judgment,  relieve  the  oppressed,  judge  the  fatherless,  plead 
for  the  widow.  Come  now,  let  us  reason  together,  saith  the  Lord ; 
though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  as  white  as  snow ; 
though  they  be  red  like  crimson,  they  shall  be  as  wool ; "  Isa.  i. 

16,  17.  "To  do  good,  and  to  communicate,  forget  not;  for  with 
such  sacrifices  God  is  well  pleased  ; "  Heb.  xiii.  16.  "  Charge  them 
that  be  rich  in  this  world,  that  they  be  not  high-minded,  nor  trust 
in  uncertain  riches,  but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all 
things  to  enjoy  ;  that  they  do  good,  that  they  be  rich  in  good  works, 
ready  to  distribute,  willing  to  communicate,  laying  up  in  store  for 
themselves  a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come,  that  they 
may  lay  hold  on  eternal  life;"  1  Tim.  vi.  17 — 19.  See  Luke  vi. 
33—35.     Mark  xiv.  7.  Matt.  v.  44.     1  Pet.  iii.  11.     James  iv. 

17.  Psalm  xxxiv.  14.  xxxvii.  27.  xxxvi.  3.  xxxvii.  3.  "Trust 
in  the  Lord,  and  do  good."  "  If  thou  doest  well,  shalt  thou  not  be 
accepted  ?  But  if  thou  doest  not  well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door ;  "  Gen. 
iv.  7.  "  Cornelius,  thy  prayers  and  thine  alms  are  come  up  for  a 
memorial  before  God.  In  every  nation,  he  that  feareth  God,  and 
worketh  righteousness,  is  accepted  of  him; "  Acts  x.  3,  4.  34,  35. 
"  Know  you  not  that  to  whom  ye  yield  yourselves  servants  to  obey, 
his  servants  ye  are  to  whom  ye  obey,  whether  of  sin  unto  death, 
or  of  obedience  unto  righteousness  ?  Yield  yourselves  unto  God 
a-s  those  that  are  alive  from  the  dead,  and  your  members  as  instru- 
ments of  righteousness  unto  God;"  Rom.  vi.  13.  16.  Matt.  v. 
16.  Acts  ix.  36.  Eph.  ii.  10.  "We  are  created  in  Christ 
Jesus  to  good  works,  which  God  hath  ordained  that  we  should  walk 
in  them;"  1  Tim.  ii.  10.  v.  10.  25.  2  Tim.  iii.  17.  Tit.  ii. 
7.  iii.  S.  14.  ii.  14.     "He  redeemed  us  from  all  iniquity,  that  he 


380        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  ANU  KEEPING 

might  purify  to  himself  a  pecuhar  people  zealous  of  good  works ; " 
1  Pet.  ii.  12.  Heb.  X.  24.  "Let  us  consider  one  another,  to 
provoke  unto  love,  and  to  good  works."  What  a  multitude  of  such 
passages  may  you  find  in  Scripture  !  ♦ 

You  see,  then,  how  great  a  part  of  your  jcalling  and  religion  con- 
sisteth  in  doing  good.  Now,  it  is  not  enough  to  make  this  your 
care  now  and  tlien,  or  do  good  when  it  falls  in  your  way ;  but  you 
must  study  which  are  good  works,  and  which  are  they  that  you 
are  called  to;  and  which  are  the  best  works,  and  to  be  preferred, 
that  you  choose  not  a  less  instead  of  a  greater.  God  looks  to  be 
served  with  the  best.  You  must  study  for  opportunities  of  doing 
good,  and  of  the  means  of  succeeding  and  accomplishing  it ;  and 
for  the  removing  of  impediments,  and  for  the  overcoming  of  dis- 
suasives,  and  withdrawing  temptations.  You  must  know  what 
talents  God  hath  intrusted  you  with,  and  those  you  must  study  to 
do  good  with  ;  whether  it  be  time,  or  interest  in  men,  or  opportu- 
nity, or  riches,  or  credit,  or  authority,  or  gifts  of  mind,  or  of  body : 
if  yoii  have  not  one,  you  have  another;  and  some  have  all. 

This,  therefore,  is  the  thing  that  I  would  persuade  you  to ;  take 
yourself  for  God's  steward  ,  remember  the  time  when  it  will  be 
said  to  you,  "  Give  account  of  thy  stewardship  ;  thou  shalt  be  no 
longer  steward."  Let  it  be  your  every  day's  contrivance,  how  to 
lay  out  your  gifts,  time,  strength,  riches,  or  interest,  to  your  Mas- 
ter's use.  Think  which  way  you  may  do  most,  first  to  promote 
the  gospel  and  the  public  good  of  the  church  ;  and  then,  which 
way  you  may  help  towards  the  saving  of  particular  men's  souls ; 
and  then,  which  way  you  may  better  the  commonwealth,  and  how 
you  may  do  good  to  men's  bodies,  beginning  with  your  own  and 
those  of  your  family,  but  extending  your  help  as  nmch  further  as 
you  are  able.  Ask  yourself  every  morning,  '  Which  way  may  I 
this  day  most  further  my  Master's  business,  and  the  good  of  men  ? ' 
Ask  yourself  every  night,  '  What  good  have  I  done  to-day  ? '  And 
labor  as  much  as  may  be  to  be  instruments  of  some  great  and 
standing  good,  and  of  some  public  and  universal  good,  that  you 
may  look  behind  yoii  at  the  year's  end,  and  at  your  lives'  end,  and 
see  the  good  that  you  have  done.  A  piece  of  bread  is  soon  eaten, 
and  a  penny  or  a  shilling  is  soon  spent ;  but  if  you  could  win  a 
soul  to  God  from  sin,  that  would  be  a  visible,  everlasting  good.  If 
you  could  be  instruments  of  setting  up  a  godly  minister  in  a  con- 
gregation that  want,  the  everlasting  good  of  many  souls  might,  in 
part,  be  ascribed  to  you.  If  you  could  help  to  heal  and  unite  a 
divided  church,  you  might"  more  rejoice  to  look  back  on  the  fruits 
ot  your  labor,  than  any  physician  might  rejoice  to  see  his  poor 
patient  recovered  to  health.  I  have  told  rich  men,  in  another 
book,  what  opportunities  thev  have  to  do  good,  if  they  had  hearts. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  381 

How  easy  were  it  with  them  to  refresh  men's  bodies,  and  to  do 
very  much  for  the  saving  souls ;  to  relieve  the  poor ;  to  set  their 
children  to  trades  ;  to  ease  the  oppressed!  How  easy  to  maintain 
two  or  three  poor  scholars  at  the  universities,  for  the  service  of 
the  church  !  But  I  hear  but  a  few  that  do  ever  the  more  in  it, 
except  three  or  four  of  my  friends  in  these  parts.  Let  me  further 
tell  you,  God  doth  not  leave  it  to  them  as  an  indifferent  thing; 
Matt.  XXV.  They  must  feed  Christ  in  the  poor,  or  else  starve  in 
hell  themselves ;  they  must  clothe  naked  Christ  in  the  poor,  or  be 
laid  naked  in  his  fiery  indignation  forever.  How  much  more  dili- 
gently, then,  must  they  help  men's  souls,  and  the  church  of  Christ, 
as  the  need  is  greater,  and  the  work  better!  O,  the  blinding 
power  of  riches ! 

O,  the  easiness  of  man's  heart  to  be  deluded !  Do  rich  men 
never  think  to  lie  rotting.in  the  dust?  Do  they  never  think  that 
they  must  be  accountable  for  all  their  riches,  and  for  all  their  time, 
and  power,  and  interests  ?  Do  they  not  know  that  it  will  comfort 
them  at  death  and  judgment,  to  hear  in  their  reckoning,  Item,  so 
much  given  to  such  and  such  poor ;  so  much  to  promote  the  gos- 
pel ;  so  much  to  maintain  poor  scholars,  while  they  study  to  pre- 
pare themselves  for  the  ministry  ?  &c.  than  to  hear.  So  much  in 
such  a  feast ;  to  entertain  such  gallants ;  to  please  such  noble  friends ; 
so  much  at  dice,  at  cards,  at  horse-races,  at  cock-fights ;  so  much 
in  excess  of  apparel ;  and  the  rest  to  leave  my  posterity  in  the  like 
pomp  ?  Do  they  not  know  that  it  will  comfort  them  more  to  hear, 
then,  of  their  time  spent  in  reading  Scripture,  secret  and  open 
prayer,  instructing  and  examining  their  children  and  servants;  going 
to  their  poor  neighbors'  houses  to  see  what  they  want,  and  to  per- 
suade them  to  godliness ;  and  in  being  examples  of  eminent  holi- 
ness to  all ;  and  in  suppressing  vice,  and  doing  justice,  than  to  hear 
of  so  much  time  spent  in  vain  recreations,  visits,  luxuries,  and  idle- 
ness? O,  deep  unbelief  and  hardness  of  heart,  that  makes  gen- 
tlemen that  they  tremble  not  to  think  of  this  reckoning  !  Well,  let 
ine  tell  both  them  and  all  men,  that  if  they  knew  but  either  their  indis- 
pensable duty  of  doing  good,  that  lieth  on  them,  or  how  necessary 
and  sure  a  way  (in  subordination  to  Christ)  this  act  of  doing  good 
is  for  the  soul's  peace  and  consolation,  they  would  study  it  better, 
and  practice  it  more  faithfully  than  now  they  do:  they  would  then 
be  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  do  good,  for  their  own  gain,  as  well 
as  for  God's  honor,  and  for  the  love  of  good  itself.  They  would 
know,  that  lending  to  the  Lord  is  the  only  thriving  usury  ;  and 
that  no  pa;-t  of  all  their  time,  riches,  interest  in  men,  power,  or 
honors,  will  be  then  comfortable  to  them,  but  that  which  was  laid 
out  for  God  ;  and  they  will  one  day  find,  tliat  God  will  not  take  up 
with   the  scraps  of  tlieir  time  and  riches,  which  their  Hesh  can 


382  "DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

spare ;  but  he  will  be  first  served,  even  before  all  comers,  and  that 
with  the  best,  or  he  will  take  them  for  no  servants  of  his.  This  is 
true,  and  you  will  find  it  so,  whether  you  will  now  believe  it  or  no. 
And  because  it  is  possible  these  lines  may  fall  into  the  hands  of 
some  of  the  rulers  of  this  commonwealth,  let  me  here  mind  them 
of  two  weighty  things : — 

1.  What  opportunities  of  doing  very  great  good  hath  been  long 
in  their  hands,  and  how  great  an  account  of  it  they  have  to  make. 
It  hath  been  long  in  their  power  to  have  done  much  to  the  recon- 
ciling of  our  differences,  and  healing  our  divisions,  by  setting  divines 
a  work  of  dififerent  judgments,  to  find  out  a  temperament  for  accom- 
modation. It  hath  long  been  in  their  power  to  have  done  much 
towards  the  supply  of  all  the  dark  congregations  in  England  and 
Wales,  with  competently  able,  sound  and  faithful  teachers.  We 
have  many  congregations  that  do  contain  .three  thousand,  five  thou- 
sand, or  ten  thousand  souls,  that  have  but  one  or  two  ministers, 
that  cannot  possibly  do  the  tenth  part  of  the  ministerial  work  of 
private  oversight ;  and  so  poor  souls  must  be  neglected,  let  ministers 
be  never  so  able  or  painful.  We  have  divers  godly,  private  Chris- 
tians, of  so  much  understanding,  as  to  be  capable  of  helping  us,  as 
officers  in  our  churches ;  but  they  are  all  so  poor,  that  they  are 
not  able  to  spare  one  hour  in  a  day  or  two  from  their  labor,  much 
less  to  give  up  themselves  to  the  work.  How  many  a  congrega- 
tion is  in  the  same  case  !  Nothing  almost  is  wanting  to  us,  to  have 
set  our  congregations  in  the  order  of  Christ,  and  done  this  great 
work  of  reformation  which  there  is  so  much  talking  of,  so  much  as 
want  of  maintenance  for  a  competent  number  of  ministers  or  elders 
to  attend  the  work.  I  am  sure,  in  great  congregations  this  is  the 
case,  and  a  sore  that  no  other  means  will  remedy.  Was  it  never 
in  the  power  of  our  rulers  to  have  helped  us  here  ?  Was  nothing 
sold  for  other  uses,  that  was  once  devoted  and  dedicated  to  God, 
and  might  have  helped  us  in  this  our  miserable  distress  ?  Were 
our  churches  able  to  maintain  their  own  officers,  our  case  were 
more  tolerable  ;  but  when  a  congregation  that  wants  six,  or  seven, 
or  ten^  is  not  able  to  maintain  .one,  it  is  hard. 

2.  The  second  thing  that  I  would  mmd  our  rulers  of,  is,  what 
mortal  enemies  those  men  are  to  their  souls,  that  would  persuade 
them  that  they  must  not,  as  rulers,  do  good  to  the  souls  of  men, 
and  to  the  church  as  such ;  nor  further  the  reformation,  nor  propa- 
gate the  gospel,  nor  establish  Christ's  order  in  the  churches  of 
their  country,  any  otherwise  than  by  a  common  maintaining  the 
peace  and  lilaerties  of  all.  What  doctrine  could  more  desperately 
undo  you,  if  entertained  ?  If  you  be  once  persuaded  that  it  belongs 
not  to  you  to  do  good,  and  the  greatest  good,  to  which  all  your 
successes  have  made  way,  then  all  the  comfort,  the  blessing  and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  383r 

reward  is  lost ;  and  consequently  all  the  glorious  preparative  suc- 
cesses, as  to  you,  are  lost.  If  once  you  take  yourselves  to  have 
nothing  to  do  as  rulers  for  Christ,  you  cannot  promise  yourselves 
that  Christ  will  have  any  thing  to  do  for  you,  as  rulers,  in  a  way 
of  mercy.  This,  Mr.  Owen  hath  lately  told  you  in  his  sermon, 
October  13,  "  The  God  of  heaven  forbid,  that  ever  all  the  devils 
in  hell,  the  Jesuits  at  Rome,  or  the  seduced  souls  in  England, 
should  be  able  to  persuade  the  rulers  of  this  land,  who  are  so 
deeply  bound  to  God  by  vows,  mercies,  professions,  and  high  ex- 
penses of  treasure  and  blood,  to  reform  his  church,  and  propagate 
his  gospel ;  that  now,  after  all  this,  it  belongeth  not  to  them,  but 
they  must,  as  rulers,  be  no  more  for  Christ  than  for  Mahomet. 
But  if  ever  it  should  prove  the  sad  case  of  England  to  have  such 
rulers,  (which  I  strongly  hope  will  never  be,)  if  my  prognostics 
fail  not,  this  will  be  their  fate :  the  Lord  Jesus  will  forsake  them, 
as  they  have  forsaken  him,  and  the  prayers  of  his  saints  will  be 
fully  turned  against  them ;  and  his  elect  shall  cry  to  him  night 
and  day,  till  he  avenge  them  speedily,  by  making  these  his  ene- 
mies to  lick  the  dust,  and  dash  them  in  pieces  like  a  potter's  ves- 
sel, because  they  would  not  that  he  should  reign  over  them  :  and 
then  they  shall  know  whether  Christ  be  not  King  of  kings  and 
Lord  of  lords." 

Perhaps  you  may  think  I  digress  from  the  matter  in  hand ;  but 
as  long  as  I  speak  but  for  my  Lord  Christ,  and  for  doing  good,  I 
cannot  think  that  I  am  quite  out  of  my  way.  But  to  return  nearer 
to  those  for  whose  sakes  I  chiefly  write,  this  is  that  sum  of  my  ad- 
vice ;  Study,  with  all  the  understanding  you  have,  how  to  do  as 
much  good,  while  you  have  time,  as  possibly  you  can,  and  you 
shall  find  that  (without  any  Popish  or  Pharisaical  self-confidence) 
to  be  the  most  excellent  art  for  obtaining  spiritual  peace,  and  a 
large  measure  of  comfort  from  Christ. 

To  that  end  use  seriously  and  daily  to  bethink  yourself,  what 
way  of  expending  your  time  and  wealth,  and  all  your  talents,  will 
be  most  comfortable  for  you  to  hear  of,  and  review  at  judgment. 
And  take  that  as  the  way  most  comfortable  now.  Only  consult 
not  with  flesh  and  blood;  make  not  your  flesh  of  the  council  in 
this  work,  but  take  it  for  your  enemy ;  expect  its  violent,  unwea- 
ried opposition ;  but  regard  not  any  of  its  clamors  or  repinings. 
But  know,  as  I  said  before,  that  your  most  true,  spiritual  comforts 
are  a  prize  that  must  be  won  upon  the  Conquest  of  the  flesh.  I 
will  only  add  to  this  the  words  of  the  blessed  Dr.  Sibbs,  (a  man 
that  was  no  enemy  to  free  grace,  nor  unjust  patron  of  man's 
works.)  in  his  preface  to  his  "  Soul's  Conflict :  "  "  Christ  is  first  a 
King  of  righteousness,  and  then  of  peace.  The  righteousness  that 
works  by  his  Spirit  brings  a  peace  of  sanctification ;  whereby  though 


384  DIRECTIONS    rOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

we  are  not  freed  from  sin,  yet  we  are  enabled  to  combat  with  it, 
and  to  get  the  victory  over  it.  Some  degree  of  comfort  follows 
every  good  action,  as  heat  accompanies  fire,  and  as  beams  and  in- 
fluences issue  from  the  sun.  Which  is  so  true,  that  very  heathens, 
upon  the  discharge  of  a  good  conscience,  have  found  comfort  and 
peace  answerable ;  this  is  a  reward  before  our  reward."  Again, 
"'  In  watchfulness  and  diligence  we  sooner  meet  with  comfort,  than 
in  idle  complainmg."  Again,  pp.  44,  45.  "  An  unemployed  life 
is  a  burden  to  itself.  God  is  a  pure  Act ;  always  working ;  always 
doing.  And  the  nearer  our  soul  comes  to  God,  the  more  it  is  in 
action,  and  the  freer  from  disquiet.  Men  experimentally  feel  that 
comfort  in  doing  that  which  belongs  unto  them,  which  before  they 
longed  for  and  went  without."  And  in  his  preface  to  the  "  Bruis- 
ed Reed : "  "  There  is  no  more  comfort  to  be  expected  from  Christ 
than  there  is  care  to  please  him.  Otherwise,  to  make  him  an 
abettor  of  a  lawless  and  loose  life,  is  to  transform  him  into  a  fancy ; 
nay,  into  the  likeness  of  him  whose  works  he  came  to  destroy ; 

'  which  is  the  most  detestable  idolatry  of  all.  One  way  whereby 
the  Spirit  of  Christ  prevaileth  in  his,  is  to  preserve  them  from  such 
thoughts :  yet  we  see  people  will  frame  a  divinity  to  themselves, 
pleasing  to  the  flesh,  suitable  to  their  own  ends ;  which,  being  vain 
in  the  substance,  will  prove  likewise  vain  in  the  fruit,  and  a  build- 
ing upon  the  sands."  So  far  Dr.  Sibbs.  It  seems  there  were 
libertines  and  Antinomians  then,  and  will  be  as  long  as  there  are 
any  carnal,  unsanctified  professors. 

Direct.  XXVI.  Having  led  you  thus  far  towards  a  settled  peace, 
my  next  Direction  shall  contain  a  necessary  caution,  lest  you  run 
as  far  into  the  contrary  extreme,  viz.  '  Take  heed  that  you  neither 
trouble  your  own  soul  with  needless  scruples  about  matters  of  doc- 
trine, of  duty,  or  of  sin,  or  about*  your  own  condition.  Nor  yet 
that  you  do  not  make  yourself  more  work  than  God  hath  made 

►  you,  by  feigning  things  unlawful,  which  God  hath  not  forbidden  ; 
or  by  placing  your  religion  in  will-worship,  or  in  an  over-curious 
insisting  on  circumstantials,  or  an  over-rigorous  dealing  with  your 
body.' 

This  is  but  the  exposition  of  Solomon  ;  "  Be  not  over-wise,  and 
be  not  righteous  overmuch;"  Eccles.  vii.  16.  A  man  cannot 
serve  God  too  much,  formally  and  strictly  considering  his  service  ; 
much  less  love  him  too  much.  But  we  may  do  too  much  mate- 
rially, intending  thereby  fo  serve  God,  which  though  it  be  not  true 
righteousness,  yet,  being  intended  for  righteousness,  and  done  as  a 
service  of  God,  or  obedience  to  him,  is  here  called  ovemiuch 
righteousness.  I  know  it  is  stark  madness  in  the  profane,  secure 
world,  to  think  that  the  doing  of  no  more  than  God  hath  command- 
ed us,  is  doing  too  much,  or  morfe  than  needs ;  as  if  God  had  bid 


SriUITUAL    PEACi:    AND    COMFORT.  385 

US  do  more  tlian  needs,  or  had  made  such  laws  as  few  of  the  fool- 
ish rulers  on  earth  would  make.     This  is  plainly  to  blaspheme  the 
Most  Hij,di,  by  denyin<i:  his  wisdom  and  his  goodness,  and  his  just 
government  of  the  world  ;  and  to  blaspheme  his  holy  laws,  as  if 
they  were  too  strict,  precise,  and  made  us  more  to  do  than  needs ; 
and  to  reproach  his  sweet  and  holy  ways,  as  if  they  were  grievous, 
intolerable,  and  unnecessary.     Much  more  is  their  madness,  in 
charging  the  godly  with  being  too  pure,  and  too  precise,  and  mak- 
ing too  great  a  stir  for  heaven,  and  that  merely  for  their  godliness 
and  obedience ;  when,  alas !  the  best  do  fall  so  far  short  of  what 
God's  word,  and  the  necessity  of  their  own  souls,  do  require,  that 
their  consciences  do  more  grievously  accuse  them  of  negligence, 
than  the  barking  world  doth    of  being  too  precise  and  diligent. 
And  yet  more  mad  are  the  world,  to  lay  out  so  much  time,  and 
care,  and  labor,  for  earthly  vanities,  and  to  provide  for  their  con- 
temptible bodies  for  a  little  while  ;  and  in  the  mean  time  to  think, 
that  heaven  and  their  everlasting  happiness  there,  and  the  escaping 
of  everlasting  damnation  in  hell,  are  matters  not  worth  so  much 
ado,  but  may  be  had  with  a  few  cold  wishes,  and  that  it  is  but  folly 
to  do  so  much  for  it  as  the  godly  do.     That  no  labor  should  be 
thought  too  much  for  the  w'orld,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  and  every 
little  is  enough  for  God.     And  that  these  wretched  souls  are  so 
blinded  by  their  own  lusts,  and  so  bewitched  by  the  devil  into  an 
utter  ignorance  of  their  own  hearts,  that  they  verily  think,  and  will 
stand  in  it,  that  for  all  this  they  love  God  above  all,  and  love 
heavenly  things  better  than  earthly,  and  therefore  shall  be  saved. 
But  yet  extremes  there  are  in  the  service  of  God,  wdiich  all  wise 
Christians  must  labor  to  avoid.     It  is  a  very  great  question  among 
divines.  Whether  the  common  rule  in  ethics,  that  virtue  is  ever  in 
the  middle  between  two  extremes,  be  sound,  as  to  Christian  virtues. 
Amesius  saith  no.     The  case  is  not  very  hard,  I  think,  to  be  re- 
solved, if  you  will  but  use  these  three  distinctions:   1.  Between 
the  acts  of  the  mere  rational  faculties,  understanding  and  will,  called 
elicit  acts,  and  the  acts  of  the  inferior  i'aculties  of  soul  and  body, 
called  imperate  acts.     2.  Between   the  acts  that  are  about  the 
end  immediately,  and  those  that  are  about  the  means.     3.  Be- 
tween the  intention  of  an  act,  and  the  .  objective  extension,  and 
comparison  of  object  with  object.     And  so  I  say,  Pi-op.  1.  The 
end  (that  is,  God  and  salvation)  cannot  be  too  fully  known,  or  too 
much  loved,  with  a  pure,  rational  love  of  complacency,  nor  too 
much  sought  by  the  acts  of  the  soul,  as  purely  rational ;  for  the 
end    being   loved   and   sought    for   itself,   and    being   of    infinite 
goodness,  must  be  loved  and  sought  without  measure  or  limitation, 
it  being  impossible  here  to  exceed.     Prop.  2.  The  means,  while 
VOL.  I.        •  49 


386        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

they  are  not  misapprehended,  but  taken  as  means,  and  materially 
well  understood,  cannot  be  too  clearly  discerned,  nor  too  rightly 
chosen,  nor  too  resolutely  prosecuted.  Prop.  3.  It  is  too  possible 
to  misapprehend  the  means,  and  to  place  them  instead  of  the  end, 
and  so  to  overlove  them.  Prop.  4.  The  nature  of  all  the  means 
consisteth  in  a  middle  or  mean  between  two  extremes,  materially  ; 
both  which  extremes  are  sin  ;  so  that  it  is  possible  to  overdo  about 
all  the  means,  as  to  the  matter  of  them,  and  the  extent  of  our  acts. 
Though  we  cannot  love  God  too  much,  yet  it  is  possible  to  preach, 
hear,  pray,  read,  meditate,  confer  of  good  too  much  ;  for  one  duty 
may  shut  out  another,  and  a  greater  may  be  neglected  by  our  over- 
doing in  a  lesser ;  which  was  the  Pharisees'  sin  in  Sabbath  resting. 
Prop.  5.  If  we  be  never  so  right  in  the  extension  of  our  acts,  yet 
we  may  go  too  far  in  the  intention  of  the  imperate  acts  or  passions 
of  the  soul,  and  that  both  on  the  means  and  end ;  though  the  pure 
acts  of  knowing  or  willing  cannot  be  too  great  towards  God  and 
salvation,  yet  the  passions  and  acts  commonly  called  sensitive,  may. 
A  man  may  think  on  God  not  only  too  much,  (as  to  exclude  other 
necessary  thoughts,)  but  too  intensely,  and  love  and  desire  too  pas- 
sionately ;  for  there  is  a  degree  of  tliinking  or  meditating,  and  of 
passionate  love  and  desire,  which  the  brain  cannot  bear,  but  it  will 
cause  madness,  and  quite  overthrow  the  use  of  reason,  by  over- 
stretching the  organs,  or  by  the  extreme  turbulency  of  the  agitated 
spirits.  Yet  I  never  knew  the  man,  nor  ever  shall  do,  I  think, 
that  was  ever  guilty  of  one  of  these  excesses ;  that  is,  of  loving  or 
desiring  God  so  passionately  as  to  distract  him.  But  I  have  often 
known  weak-headed  people,  (that  be  not  able  to  order  their 
thoughts,)  and  many  melancholy  people,  guilty  of  the  other;  that 
is,  of  thinking  too  much,  and  too  seriously  and  intensely  on  good 
and  holy  things,  whereby  they  have  overthrown  their  reason,  and 
been  distracted.  And  here  I  would  give  all  such  weak-headed, 
melancholy  persons  this  warning,  that  whereas  in  my  Book  of 
Rest,  I  so  much  press  a  constant  course  of  heavenly  meditation,  I 
do  intend  it  only  for  sound  heads,  and  not  for  the  melancholy,  that 
have  weak  heads,  and  are  unable  to  bear  it.  That  may  be  their 
sin,  which  to  others  is  a  very  great  duty ;  while  they  think  to  do 
that  which  they  cannot  do,  they  will  but  disable  themselves  for  that 
which  they  can  do.  I  would  therefore  advise  those  melancholy 
persons  whose  minds  are  so  troubled,  and  heads  weakened,  that 
they  are  in  danger  of  overthrowing  their  understandings,  (which 
usually  begins  in  multitudes  of  scruples,  and  restlessness  of  mind, 
and  continual  fears,  and  blasphemous  temptations ;  where  it  begins 
with  these,  distraction  is  at  hand,  if  not  prevented,)  that  they  for- 
bear meditation,  as  being  no  duty  to  them,  though  it  be  to  others ; 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  387 

and  instead  of  it  be  the  more  in  those  duties  which  they  are  fit  for, 
especially  conference  with  judicious  Christians,  and  cheerful  and 
thankful  acknowledgment  of  God's  mercies.  And  thus  have  I 
showed  you  how  far  wc  may  possibly  exceed  in  God's  service. 
Let  me  now  a  little  apply  it. 

It  hath  ever  been  the  devil's  policy  to  begin  in  persuading  men 
to  worldliness,  flesh-pleasing,  security,  and  presumption,  and  utter 
neglect  of  God  and  their  souls,  or  at  least  preferring  their  bodies 
and  worldly  things;  and  by  this  means  he  destroyeth  the  world. 
But  where  this  will  not  take,  but  God  awaketh  men  effectually, 
and  casteth  out  the  sleepy  devil,  usually  he  fills  men's  heads  with 
needless  scruples,  and  next  setteth  them  on  a  religion  not  com- 
manded, and  would  make  poor  souls  believe  they  do  nothing,  if 
they  do  not  more  than  God  hath  commanded  them.  When  the 
devil  hath  no  other  way  left  to  destroy  religion  and  godliness,  he 
will  pretend  to  be  religi|us  and  godly  himself,  and  then  he  is  al- 
ways over-religious  and  over-godly  in  his  materials.  All  over- 
doing in  God's  work  is  undoing  ;  and  whoever  you  meet  with  that 
would  overdo,  suspect  him  to  be  either  a  subtle,  destroying  enemy, 
or  one  deluded  by  the  destroyer.  O,  what  a  tragedy  could  1  here 
show  you  of  the  devil's  acting  I  And  what  a  mystery  in  the  hell- 
ish art  of  deceiving  could  I  open  to  you  !  And  shall  I  keep  the 
devil's  counsel?  No:  O  that  God  would  open  the  eyes  of  his 
poor  desolate  churches  at  last  to  see  it ! 

The  Lord  Jesus,  in  wisdom  and  tender  mercy,  establisheth  a  law 
of  grace  and  rule  of  life,  pure  and  perfect,  but  simple  and  plain ; 
laying  the  condition  of  man's  salvation  more  in  the  honesty  of  the 
believing  heart,  than  in  the  strength  of  wit,  and  subtlety  of  a  know- 
ing head.  He  comprised  the  truths  which  were  of  necessity  to  sal- 
vation in  a  narrow  room;  so  that  the  Christian  faith  was  a  matter 
of  great  plainness  and  simplicity.  As  long  as  Christians  were  such, 
and  held  to  this,  the  gospel  rode  in  triumph  through  the  world,  and 
an  omnipotency  of  the  Spirit  accompanied  it,  bearing  down  all  be- 
fore it.  Princes  and  sceptres  stooped  ;  subtle  philosophy  was  non- 
plused ;  and  all  useful  sciences  came  down,  and  acknowledged  them- 
selves servants,  and  took  their  places,  and  were  well  contented  to 
attend  the  pleasure  of  Christ.  As  Mr.  Herbert  saith  in  his  "  Church 
Militant;" — 

Religion  thence  fled  into  Greece,  where  arts 
Gave  her  the  highest  place  in  all  men's  hearts  ; 
Learning  was  proposed  ;  philosophy  was  set; 
Sophisters  taken  in  a  fisher's  net. 
Plato  and  Aristotle  were  at  a  loss, 
And  wheeled  about  aoain  t(j  spell  Christ's  cross. 
Prayers  chased  syllogisms  into  their  den, 
An4'ergo'  wag  transformed  into  Amen. 


388        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING  *" 

The  serpent,  envying  this  happiness  of  the  church,  hath  no  way 
to  undo  us,  but  by  drawing  us  from  our  Christian  simphcity.     By 
the  occasion  of  heretics'  quarrels  and  errors,  the  serpent  steps  in, 
and  will  needs  be  a  spirit  of  zeal  in  the  church ;    and  he  will  so 
overdo  against  heretics,  that  he  persuades  them  they  must  enlarge 
their  creed,  and  add  this  clause  against  one,  and  that  against  an- 
other, and  all  was  but  for  the  perfecting  and  preserving  of  the 
Christian  faith.     And  so  he  brings  it  to  be  a  matter  of  so  much 
wit  to  be  a  Christian,  (as  Erasmus  complains,)  that  ordinary  heads 
were  not  able  to  reach  it.     He  had  got  them  v/ith  a  religious,  zeal- 
ous cruelty  to  their  own  and  others'  souls,  to  lay  all  their  salvation, 
and  the  peace  of  the  church,  upon  some  unsearchable  mysteries 
about  the  Trinity,  which  God  either  never  revealed,  or  never  clear- 
ly revealed,  or  never  laid  so  great  a  stress  upon;  yet  he  persuades 
them  that  there  was  Scripture  proof  enough  for  these ;  only  the 
Scripture  spoke  it  but  in  the  premises  or|j^i  darker  terms,  and  they 
must  but  gather  into  their  creed  the  consequences,  and  put  it  into 
plainer  expressions,  which  heretics  might  not  so  easily  comipt^ 
pervert  or  evade.     Was  not  this  reverent  zeal  ?     And  was  not  the 
devil  seemingly  now  a  Christian  of  the  most  judicious  and  forward 
sort?     But  what  got  he  at  this  one  game?     1.  He  necessitated 
implicit  faith  even  in  fundamentals,  when  he  had  got  points  be- 
yond a  vulgar  reach  among  fundamentals.     2.  He  necessitated  some 
living  judge  for  the  determining  of  fundamentals  '  quoad  nos,'  though 
not  '  in  se,'  (the  soul  of  Popish  wickedness,)  that  is,  what  it  is  in 
sense  that  the  people  must  take  for  fundamentals.     3.  He  got  a 
standing  verdict  against  the  perfection  and  sufficiency  of  Scripture, 
(and  consequently  against  Christ,  his  Spirit,  his  apostles,  and  the 
Christian  faith  ;)  and  that  it  will  not  afford  us  so  much  as  a  creed 
or  system  of  fundamentals,  or  points  absolutely  necessary  to  salva- 
tion and  brotherly  communion,  in  fit  or  tolerable  phrases ;  but  we 
must  mend  the  language  at  last.     4.  He  opened  a  gap  for  human 
additions,  at  which  he  might  afterwards  bring  in  more  at  his  pleas- 
ure.    5.  He  framed  an  engine  for  infallible  division,  and  to  tear  in 
pieces  the  church,  casting  out  all  as  heretics  that  could  not  subscribe 
to  his  additions,  and  necessitating  separation  by  all  dissenters,  to 
the  world's  end,  till  the  devil's  engine  be  overthrown.     6.  And 
hereby  he  lays  a  ground  upon  the  divisions  of  Christians,  to  bring 
men  into  doubt  of  all  religion,  as  not  knowing  which  is  the  right. 
7.  And  he  lays  the  ground  of  certain  heart-burnings,  and  mutual 
hatred,  contentions,  revilings,  and  enmity.     Is  not  here  enough  got 
at  one  cast  ?     Doth  there  need  any  more  to  the  establishing  of  the 
Romish  and  hellish  darkness?     Did  not  this  one  act  found  the  seat 
of  Rome  ?     Did  not  the  devil  get  more  in  his  gown  in  a  day  than 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  389 

he  could  get  by  his  sword  in  three  hundred  years  ?  And  yet  the 
Holy  Ghost  gave  them  full  warning  of  this  beforehand;  "For  I 
am  jealous  over  you  with  a  godly  jealousy ;  for  I  have  espoused 
you  to  one  husband,  that  I  may  present  you  as  a  chaste  virgin  to 
Clirist.  But  I  fear,  lest  by  any  means,  as  the  serpent  beguiled 
Eve,  through  his  subtlety,  so  your  minds  should  be  corrupted  from 
the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ ;  "  2  Cor.  xi.  2,  3.  "  Him  that  is 
weak  in  the  faith  receive  ye,  but  not  to  doubtful  disputations;" 
Rom.  xiv.  1.  "The  law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect;"  Psal.  xix. 
"  All  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  from  God,  and  is  profitable 
for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in  righteous- 
ness, that  the  man  of  God  may  be  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished 
unto  all  good  works;"  2  Tim.  iii.  16,  17.  "To  the  law  and  to 
the  testimony  :  if  they  speak  not  according  to  these,  it  is  because 
there  is  no  truth  in  them  ;  "  Isa.  viii.  20.     With  many  the  like. 

This  plot  the  serpent  hath  found  so  successful,  that  he  hath  fol- 
lowed it  on  to  this  day.  He  hath  made  it  the  great  engine  to  get 
Rome  on  his  side,  and  to  make  them  the  great  dividers  of  Christ's 
church.  He  made  the  pope  and  the  council  of  Trent  believe,  that 
when  they  had  owned  the  ancient  creed  of  the  church,  they  must 
put  in  as  many  and  more  additional  articles  of  their  own,  and  anath- 
ematize all  gainsayers ;  and  these  additions  must  be  the  peculiar 
mark  of  their  church  as  Romish  ;  and  then  all  that  are  not  of  that 
church,  that  is,  that  own  not  these  superadded  points,  are  not  of 
the  true  church  of  Christ,  if  they  must  be  judges.  Yea,  among 
ourselves  hath  the  devil  used  successfully  this  plot !  What  con- 
fession of  the  purest  church  hath  not  some  more  than  is  in  Scrip- 
ture !  The  most  modest  must  mend  the  phrase  and  speak  plainer, 
and  somewhat  of  their  own  in  it,  not  excepting  our  own  most  re- 
formed confession. 

Yea,  and  where  modesty  restrains  men  from  putting  all  such  in- 
ventions and  explications  in  their  creed,  the  devil  persuades  men, 
that,  they  being  the  judgments  of  godly,  reverend  divines,  (no  doubt 
to  be  reverenced,  valued,  and  heard,)  it  is  almost  as  much  as  if  it 
were  in  the  creed,  and  therefore  whoever  dissenteth  must  be  noted 
with  a  black  coal,  and  you  must  disgrace  him,  and  avoid  commu- 
nion with  him  as  an  heretic.  Hence  lately  is  your  union,  commu- 
nion, and  the  church's  peace,  laid  upon  certain  unsearchable  myste- 
ries about  predestination,  the  order  and  objects  of  God's  decrees, 
the  manner  of  the  Spirit's  most  secret  operations  on  the  soul,  the 
nature  of  the  will's  essential  liberty,  and  its  power  of  self-deter- 
mining, the  divine  concourse,  determination  or  predestination  of 
man's  and  all  other  creatures'  actions,  he.  That  he  is  scarcely  to 
be  accounted  a  fit  member  for  our  fraternal  communion  that  differs 


390        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

from  us  herein.  Had  it  not  been  for  this  one  plot,  the  Christian 
faith  had  been  kept  pure  ;  rehgion  had  been  one  ;  the  church  had 
been  one  ;  and  the  hearts  of  Christians  had  been  more  one  tlian 
they  are.  Had  not  the  devil  turned  orthodox,  he  had  not  made 
so  many  true  Christians  heretics,  as  Epiphanius  and  Austin  have 
enrolled  in  the  black  list.  Had  not  the  enemy  of  truth  and  peace 
got  into  the  chair,  and  made  so  pathetic  an  oration  as  to  inflame  the 
minds  of  the  lovers  of  truth  to  be  over-zealous  for  it,  and  to  do  too 
much,  we  might  have  had  truth  and  peace  to  this  day.  Yea,  still, 
if  he  see  any  man  of  experience  and  moderation  stand  up  to  re- 
duce men  to  the  ancient  simplicity,  he  presently  seems  the  most 
zealous  for  Christ,  and  tells  the  inexperienced  leaders  of  the  flocks, 
that  it  is  in  favor  of  some  heresy  that  such  a  man  speaks  ;  he  is 
plotting  a  carnal  syncretism,  and  attempting  the  reconcilement  ol 
Christ  and  Belial ;  he  is  tainted  with  Popery,  or  Socinianism,  or 
Arminianism,  or  Calvinism,  or  whatsoever  may  make  him  odious 
with  those  he  speaks  to.  O,  what  the  devil  hath  got  by  overdoing ! 
And  as  this  is  true  in  doctrines,  so  is  it  in  worship  and  discipline, 
and  pastoral  authority  and  government.  When  the  serpent  could 
not  get  the  world  to  despise  the  poor  fishermen  that  published  the 
gospel,  (the  devil  being  judged,  and  the  world  convinced  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Gliost,  the  Agent,  Advocate,  and  Vicar  ot 
Christ,  on  earth,)  he  will  then  be  the  most  forward  to  honor  and 
promote  them.  And  if  he  cannot  make  Constantine  a  persecutor 
of  them,  he  will  persuade  him  to  raise  them  in  worldly  glory  to  the 
stars,  and  make  them  lords  of  Rome,  and  possess  them  with  prince- 
ly dignities  and  revenues.  And  he  hath  got  as  much  by  over- 
honoring  them,  as  ever  he  did  by  persecuting  and  despising  them. 
And  now  in  England,  when  this  plot  is  descried,  and  we  had  taken 
down  that  superfluous  honor,  as  antichristian,  what  doth  the  devil 
but  set  in  again  on  the  other  side  ?  And  none  is  so  zealous  a  re- 
former as  he.  He  cries  down  all  as  antichristian,  which  he  desir- 
eth  should  fall.  Their  tithes  and  maintenance  are  antichristian  and 
oppressive  (O,  pious,  merciful  devil ;)  down  with  them !  These 
church-lands  were  given  by  Papists  to  Popish  uses,  to  maintain 
bishops,  and  deans,  and  chapters ;  down  with  them  I  These  col- 
lege-lands, these  cathedrals,  nay,  these  church-houses,  or  temples, 
(for  so  I  will  call  them,  whether  the  devil  will  or  no,)  all  come 
fiom  idolaters,  and  are  abused  to  idolatry  ;  down  with  them  !  Nay, 
think  you  but  he  hath  taken  the  boldness  to  cry  out,  These  priests, 
these  ministers,  are  all  antichristian,  seducers,  needless,  enviers  ot 
the  spirit  of  prophecy,  and  of  the  gifts  of  their  brethren,  monopo- 
Jizers  of  preaching  ;  down  with  them  too  !  So  that  though  he  yet 
iiaye  not  what  he  would  have,  the  old  serpent  hath  done  more  as 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  391 

a  reformer  by  overdoing,  than  he  did  in  many  a  year  as  a  deformer 
or  hinderer  of  reformation.  Yet  if  he  do  but  see  that  tliere  is  a 
Sovereign  Power  that  can  do  him  a  mischief,  he  is  ready  to  tell 
them,  they  must  be  merciful,  and  not  deal  cruelly  with  sinners  ! 
Nay,  it  belongs  not  to  them  to  reform,  or  to  judge  who  are  heretics 
and  who  not,  or  to  restrain  false  doctrine,  or  church  disturbers. 
Christ  is  sufficient  for  this  himself.  How  oft  hath  the  devil  preach- 
ed tlius,  to  tie  the  hands  of  those  that  might  wound  him! 

Would  you  see  any  further  how  he  hath  played  this  successful 
game  of  overdoing?  Why,  he  hath  done  as  much  by  it  in  vror- 
ship  and  discipline,  as  almost  in  any  thing.  When  he  cannot  have 
discipline  neglected,  he  is  an  over-zealous  spirit  in  the  breasts  of 
the  clergy ;  and  he  persuades  them  to  appoint  men  penance,  and 
pilgrimages,  and  to  put  the  necks  of  princes  under  their  feet.  But 
if  this  tyranny  must  be  abated,  he  cries  down  all  discipline,  and 
tells  them  it  is  all  but  tyranny  and  human  inventions  ;  and  this  con- 
fessing sin  to  ministers  for  relief  of  conscience,  and  this  open  con- 
fessing in  the  congregation  for  a  due  manifestation  of  repentance, 
and  satisfaction  to  the  church,  that  they  may  hold  communion  with 
them,  it  is  all  but  Popery  and  priestly  domineering. 

And  in  n>atter  of  worship,  worst  of  all.  When  he  could  not 
persuadp  the  world  to  persecute  Christ,  and  to  refuse  him  and  his 
worship,  the  serpent  will  be  the  most  zealous  worshiper,  and  saith, 
as  Herod,  and  with  the  same  mind,  "  Come  and  tell  me,  that  I 
may  worship  him."  He  persuades  men  to  do  and  overdo.  He 
sets  them  on  laying  out  their  revenues  in  sumptuous  fabrics ;  in 
fighting  to  be  masters  of  the  holy  land  and  sepulchre  of  Christ ;  on 
going  pilgrimages ;  worshiping  saints,  angels,  shrines,  relics,  ador- 
ing the  very  bread  of  the  sacrament  as  God,  excessive  fastings, 
choice  of  meats,  numbered  prayers  on  beads,  repetitions  of  words, 
so  many  Ave  IMaries,  Pater  Nosters,  the  name  Jesus  so  oft  repeat- 
ed in  a  breatJ],  so  many  holidays  to  saints,  canonical  hours,  even  at 
midnight  to  pray,  and  that  in  Latin  for  greater  reverence,  cross- 
ings, holy  gannents,  variety  of  prescribed  gestures,  kneeling  and 
worshiping  before  images,  sacrificing  Christ  again  to  his  Father 
in  the  mass ;  forswearing  marriage ;  living  retiredly,  as  separate 
from  the  world  ;  multitudes  of  new,  prescribed  rules  and  orders  of 
life  ;  vowing  poverty  ;  begging  without  need  ;  creeping  to  the  cross, 
holy  water,  and  holy  bread,  carrying  palms,  kneeling  at  altars, 
bearing  candles,  ashes  ;  in  baptism,  crossing,  conjuring  out  the  devil, 
salting,  spittle,  oil ;  taking  pardons,  indulgencies,  and  dispensations 
of  the  pope  ;  praying  for  the  dead,  perambulations,  serving  God 
to  merit  heaven,  or  to  ease  souls  in  purgatory  ;  doing  works  of  su- 
pererogation, with  multitudes  the  like.  All  these  Jiath  tlie  devil 
added  to  God's  worship,  so  zealous  a  worshiper  of  Christ  is   lie. 


392        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

when  he  takes  that  way.  Read  Mr.  Herbert's  "  Church  Militant 
of  Rome,"  pp.  188 — 190.  I  could  trace  this  deceiver  yet  further, 
and  tell  you  wherein,  when  he  could  not  hinder  reformation  in 
Luther's  days,  he  would  needs  overdo  in  reforming  !  But  O  how  sad 
an  example  of  it  have  we  before  our  eyes  in  England  !  Never  peo- 
ple on  earth  more  hot  upon  reforming !  Never  any  deeper  engag- 
ed for  it !  The  devil  could  not  hinder  it  by  fire  and  sword ;  when 
he  sees  that,  he  will  needs  turn  reformer,  as  I  said  before,  and  he 
gets  the  word,  and  cries  down  antichrist,  and  cries  up  reformation, 
till  he  hath  done  what  we  see !  He  hath  made  a  Babel  of  our 
work,  by  confounding  our  languages ;  for  though  he  will  be  for  ref- 
ormation too,  yet  his  name  is  Legion ;  he  is  an  enemy  to  the  one 
God,  one  Mediator  and  Head,  one  faith,  and  one  baptism,  one 
heart,  and  one  lip,  and  one  way ;  unity  is  the  chief  butt  that  he 
shoots  at.  Is  baptism  to  be  reformed  ?  Christ  is  so  moderate  a 
Reformer,  that  he  only  bids,  Down  with  the  symbolical,  mystical 
rite  of  man's  vain  addition.  But  the  serpent  is  a  more  zealous  re- 
former. He  saith.  Out  with  express  covenanting ;  out  with  chiJ- 
dren;  they  are  a  corruption  of  the  ordinance.  And  to  others  he 
says,  Out  with  baptism  itself.  We  might  follow  him  thus  through 
other  ordinances.  Indeed,  he  so  overdoes  in  his  reforming,  that  he 
would  not  leave  us  a  gospel,  a  ministry,  a  magistracy  to  be  for 
Christ,  no,  nor  a  Christ ;  (though  yet  he  would  seem  to  own  a 
God,  and  the  light  of  nature.)  All  these  with  him  are  antichristian. 
By  this  time  I  hope  you  see  that  this  way  of  overdoing  hath 
another  author  than  many  zealous  people  do  imagine  ;  and  that  it 
is  the  devil's  common  successful  trade  ;  so  that  his  agents  in  state- 
assemblies  are  taught  his  policy,  '  When  you  have  no  other  way  of 
undoing,  let  it  be  by  overdoing.'  And  the  same  way  he  takes  with 
the  souls  of  particular  persons.  If  he  see  them  troubled  for  sin, 
and  he  cannot  keep  them  from  the  knowledge  of  Christ  and  free 
grace,  he  puts  the  name  of  free  grace  and  gospel-preaching  upon 
Antinomian  and  libertine  errors,  which  subvert  the  very  gospel  and 
free  grace  itself.  If  he  see  men  convinced  of  this,  and  that  it  is 
neither  common  nor  religious  libertinism  and  sensuality  that  will 
bring  men  to  heaven,  then  he  will  labor  to  make  Papists  of  them, 
and  to  set  them  on  a  task  of  external  formalities,  or  macerating  their 
bodies  with  hurtful  fastings,  watchings,  and  cold,  as  if  self-murder 
were  the  highest  pitch  of  religion,  and  God  had  pleasure  to  see  his 
people  torment  themselves  !  I  confess  it  is  very  few  that  ever  I 
knew  to  have  erred  far  in  the  austere  usage  of  their  bodies.  But 
some  I  have,  and  especially  poor,  melancholy  Christians,  that  are 
more  easily  drawn  to  deal  rigorously  with  their  flesh  than  others  be. 
And  such  wiitings  as  lately  have  been  published  by  some  English 
Popish  formalists,  I  have  known  draw  men  into  this  snare.     I 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  393 

would  have  all  such  remember,    1.  That  God  is  a  Spirit,  and  will 
be  worshiped  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ;   and  such  worshipers  doth  he 
seek.     2.  That  God  will  have  mercy  and  not  sacrifice  ;  and  that 
the  vitals  of  religion  are  in  a  consumption,  when  the  heat  of  zeal  is 
drawn  too  much  to  the  outside  ;  and  that  placing  most  in  externals, 
is  the  great  character  of  hypocrisy,  and  is  that  pharisaical  religion  to 
which  the  doctrine  and  practice  of  the  Lord  Jesus  was  most  opposite, 
as  any  that  will  read  the  gospel  may  soon  see.     3.  That  God  hath 
made  our  bodies  to  be  his  servants,  and  instruments  of  righteous- 
ness, (Rom.  vi.  13.,)  and  helpful  and  serviceable  to  our  souls  in 
well-doing.     And  therefore  it  is  disobedience,  it  is  injustice,  it  is 
cruelty  to  disable  them,  and  causelessly  to  vex  and  torment  them, 
much  more  to  destroy  them.     You  may  see  by  sick  men,  by  mel- 
ancholy men,  by  madmen  and  children,  how  unfit  that  soul  is  to 
know,  or  love  or  serve  God,  that  hath  not  a  fit  body  to  work  in  and 
by.     The  serpent  knows  this  well  enough.     If  he  can  but  get  you 
by  excessive  fastings,  watchings,  labors,  studies,  or  other  austerities, 
especially  sadness  and  perplexities  of  mind,  to  have  a  sick  body,  a 
crazed  brain,  or  a  short  life,  you  will  be   able  to  do  him  but  httle 
hurt,  and  God  but  little  service,  besides  the  pleasure  that  he  takes 
in  your  own  vexation.     Nay,  he   will  hope  to  make  a  further  ad- 
vantage of  your  weakness,  and  to  keep  many  a  soul  in  the  snares 
of  sensuality,  by  telling  them  of  your  miseries,  and  saying  to  them, 
'  Dost  thou  not  see  in  such  a  man  or  woman,  what  it  is  to  be  so 
holy  and  precise  ?     They  will  all  run  mad  at  last.     If  once  thou 
grow  so  strict,  and  deny  thyself  thy  pleasures,  and  take  this  precise 
course,  thou  wilt  but  make  thy  life  a  misery,  and  never  have  a 
merry  day  again.'     Such  examples  as  yours  the  devil  will  make 
use  of  that  he  may  terrify  poor  souls  from  godliness,  and  repre- 
sent the  word  and  ways  of  Christ  to  them  in  an  odious,  and  un- 
pleasing,  and  discouraging  shape.     Doubtless  that  God  who  him- 
self is  so  merciful  to  your  body,  as  well  as  to  your  soul,  would  have 
you  to  be  so  too.     He  that  provided  so  plentifully  for  its  refresh- 
ment, would  not  have  you  refuse  his  provision.     He  that  saith  that 
the  righteous  man  is  merciful  to  his  beast,  no  doubt  would  not 
have  him  to  be  unmerciful  to  his  own  body.     You  are  commanded 
to  love  your  neighbors  but  as  yourself;  and  therefore  by  cruelty  and 
unmerciful  dealing  with  your  own  body,  you  will  go  about  to  justi- 
fy the  like  dealings  with  others.     You  durst  not  deny  to  feed,  to 
clothe,  to  comfort  and  refresh  the  poor,  lest  Christ  should  say, 
"  You  did  it  not  to  me."     And  how  should  you  dare  to  deny  the 
same  to  yourself?     How  will  you  answer  God  for  the  neglect  of  all 
that  service  which  you  should  have  done  him,  and  might  if  you  had 
not  disabled  your  bodies  and  mind  ?     He  requireth  that  you  delight 
yourself  in  hun.     And  how  can  you  do  that  when  you  habituate 
VOL.  I.  50 


394        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

both  mind  and  body  to  a  sad,  dejected,  mournful  garb  ?  The  ser- 
vice that  God  requires,  is,  "  To  serve  him  with  cheerfulness  in  the 
abundance  that  we  possess  ;  "  Deut.  xxviii.  47.  If  you  think  that 
I  here  contradict  what  I  said  in  the  former  Directions,  for  pinching 
the  flesh,  and  denying  its  desires,  you  are  mistaken.  I  only  show 
you  the  danger  of  the  contrary  extreme.  God's  way  lieth  be- 
tween both.  The  truth  is,  (if  you  W'ould  be  resolved  how  far  you 
may  please  or  displease  the  flesh,)  the  flesh,  being  ordained  to  be 
our  servant  and  God's  servant,  must  be  used  as  a  servant.  You 
will  give  your  servant  food  and  raiment,  and  wholesome  lodging, 
and  good  usage,  or  else  you  are  unjust,  and  he  will  be  unfit  to  do 
your  work.  But  so  far  as  he  w^ould  master  you,  or  disobey  you, 
you  will  correct  him,  or  keep  him  under.  You  will  feed  your 
horse,  or  else  he  will  not  carry  you ;  but  if  he  grow  unruly,  you  must 
tame  him.  It  is  a  delusory  formality  of  Papists,  to  tie  all  the 
countries  to  one  time  and  measure  of  fasting,  as  Lent,  Fridays,  &,c. ; 
when  men's  states  are  so  various  that  many  (though  not  quite  sick) 
have  more  need  of  a  restoring  diet ;  and  those  that  need  fasting, 
need  it  not  all  at  once,  not  in  one  measure,  but  at  the  time,  and  in 
the  measure,  as  the  taming  of  their  flesh  requireth  it.  As  if  a 
physician  should  proclaim  that  all  his  patients  should  take  physic 
such  forty  days  every  year,  whether  their  disease  be  plethoric  or 
consuming,  from  fullness  or  from  abstinence,  and  whether  the  dis- 
ease take  him  at  that  time  of  the  year,  or  another.  And  remem- 
ber that  you  must  not,  under  pretenses  of  saving  the  body,  disable 
it  to  serve  God.  You  v/ill  not  lay  any  such  correction  on  your 
child  or  servant  as  shall  disable  them  from  their  work,  but  such  as 
shall  excite  them  to  it.  And  understand  that  all  your  afflicting 
your  body  must  be  either  preventive,  as  keeping  the  fire  fi'om  the 
thatch,  or  medicinal  and  corrective,  and  not  strictly  vindictive  ;  for 
that  belongs  to  your  Judge.  Though  in  a  subordination  to  the  other 
ends,  the  smart  or  suffering  for  its  fault,  is  one  end,  and  so  it  is  truly 
penal  or  vindictive,  as  all  chastisement  is.  And  so  Paul  saith,  "  Be- 
hold what  revenge,"  he,  2  Cor.  vii.  11.,  but  as  not  mere  judicial 
revenge  is.  Remember,  therefore,  though  you  must  so  far  tame  your 
body  as  to  bring  it  into  subjection,  that  you  perish  not  by  pampering ; 
yet  not  so  far  as  to  bring  it  to  weakness,  and  sickness,  and  unfit- 
ness for  its  duty.  Nor  yet  must  you  dare  to  conceit  that  you  please 
God,  or  satisfy  him  for  your  sin,  by  such  a  wTonging  and  hurting 
your  own  body.  Such  Popish  religiousness  shows,  that  men  have 
very  low  and  carnal  conceits  of  God.  Was  it  not  a  base  wicked- 
ness in  them  that  offered  their  children  in  sacrifice,  to  think  that  God 
would  be  pleased  with  such  cruelty  ?  Yea,  were  it  not  to  have  di- 
rected us  to  Christ,  he  would  not  have  accepted  of  the  blood  of 
bulls  and  goats ;  it  is  not  sacrifice  that  he  desires.     He  never  was 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  395 

bloodthirsty,  nor  took  any  pleasure  in  the  creature's  sufTerino;. 
How  can  you  think,  then,  that  he  will  take  pleasure  in  your  con- 
suming and  destroying  your  own  bodies?  It  is  as  unreasonable  as 
to  imagine,  that  he  delights  to  have  men  cut  their  own  throats,  or 
hang  themselves  ;  for  })ining  and  consuming  one's  self  is  self-mur- 
der as  well  as  that.  Yet  I  know  no  man  should  draw  back  from  a 
painful  or  hazardous  work,  when  God  calls  him  to  it,  lor  fear  of 
destroying  the  flesh ;  but  do  not  make  work  or  suftering  for  your- 
selves. God  will  lay  as  much  affliction  on  you  as  you  need,  and 
be  thankful  if  he  will  enable  you  to  bear  that ;  but  you  have  no 
need  to  add  more.  If  yourselves  make  the  suffering,  how  can  you, 
with  any  encouragement,  beg  strength  of  God  to  bear  it  ?  And  if 
you  have  not  strength,  what  will  you  do  ?  Nay,  how  can  you  pray 
for  deliverance  from  God's  afflictings,  when  you  make  more  of  your 
own?  And  thus  I  have  showed  you  the  danger  of  overdoing,  and 
what  hindrance  it  is  to  a  settled  peace,  both  of  church  (state) 
and  soul ;  though  perhaps  it  may  not  condemn  a  particular  soul  so 
certainly  (in  most  parts  of  it)  as  doing  too  little  wilL 

5.  The  next  part  of  my  Direction  (first  expressed)  is,  That  you 
avoid  causeless  scruples,  about  doctrines,  duties,  sins,  or  your  own 
state. 

These  are  also  engines  of  the  enemy,  to  batter  the  peace  and 
comfort  of  your  soul ;  he  knows  that  it  is  cheerful  obedience,  with 
a  confidence  of  Christ's  merits  and  mercies,  that  God  accepteth  ; 
and  therefore  if  he  cannot  hinder  a  poor  soul  from  setting  upon 
duty,  he  will  hinder  him  if  he  can,,  by  these  scruples,  from  a  cheer- 
ful and  prosperous  progress.  First,  if  he  can,  he  will  take  in  scru- 
ples about  the  truth  of  his  religion,  and  showing  him  the  many 
opinions  that  are  in  the  world,  he  will  labor  to  bring  the  poor  Chris- 
tian to  a  loss.  Or  else  he  will  assault  him  by  the  men  of  some 
particular  sect,  to  draw  him  to  that  party,  and  so  by  corrupting  his 
judgment,  to  break  his  peace  ;  or  at  least  to  trouble  his  head,  and 
divert  his  thoughts  from  God,  by  tedious  disputes.  The  Papists 
will  tell  him,  that  they  are  the  only  true  Catholic  church,  as  if  they 
had  got  a  monopoly  or  patent  for  religion,  and  had  confined  Christ 
to  themselves,  who  are  such  notorious  abusers  of  him  ;  and  as  if  all 
the  churches  of  Greece,  Ethiopia,  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  were 
unchurched  by  Christ,  to  humor  Master  Pope,  though  they  be  far 
more  in  number,  and  many  of  them  sounder  in  doctrine,  than  the 
Romanists  are.  Those  of  otiier  parties  will  do  the  like,  each  one 
to  draw  him  to  their  own  way.  And  the  devil  would  make  him 
believe  that  there  are  as  many  religions  as  there  are  odd  opinions, 
when,  alas !  the  Christian  religion  is  one,  and  but  one,  consisting, 
for  the  doctrinals,  in  those  fundamentals  contained  in  our  creed. 
And  men's  lesser  erroneous  opinions  are  but  the  scabs  that  adhere 


^ 


396  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

to  their  religion.  Only  the  church  of  Rome  is  a  very  leper,  whose 
infectious  disease  doth  compel  us  to  avoid  her  company.  (As  for 
any  sort  of  men  that  deny  the  fundamentals,  1  will  not  call  them 
by  the  name  of  Christians.)  So  also  in  duties  of  worship,  Satan 
will  be  casting  in  scruples.  If  they  should  hear  the  word,  he  will 
cause  them  to  be  scrupling  the  calling  of  the  minister,  or  something 
in  his  doctrine  to  discourage  them.  If  they  should  dedicate  their 
children  to  Christ  in  the  baptismal  covenant,  he  will  be  raising 
scmples  about  the  lawfulness  of  baptizing  infants.  When  they 
should  solace  their  souls  at  the  Lord's  supper,  or  other  communion 
of  the  church,  he  will  be  raising  scruples  about  the  fitness  of  every 
one  that  they  are  to  join  with,  and  whether  it  be  lawful  to  join 
with  such  an  ignorant  man,  or  such  a  wicked  man ;  or  whether  it 
be  a  true  church,  or  rightly  gathered,  or  governed,  or  the  minister 
a  true  minister,  and  twenty  the  like.  When  they  should  join  with 
the  church  in  singing  of  God's  praises,  he  will  move  one  to  scruple 
singing  David's  psalms ;  another  to  scruple  singing  among  the  un- 
godly ;  another  singing  psalms  that  agree  not  to  eveiy  man's  con- 
dition ;  another,  because  our  translation  is  bad,  or  our  metre  defec- 
tive, and  we  might  have  better.  When  men  should  spend  the 
Lord's  day  in  God's  spiritual  worship,  he  causeth  one  to  scruple, 
whether  the  Lord's  day  be  of  divine  institution.  Another  he  drives 
into  the  other  extreme,  to  scruple  almost  every  thing  that  is  not 
worship.  Whether  they  may  provide  their  meat  on  that  day, 
(when  yet  it  is  a  solemn  day  of  thanksgiving,  and  they  scruple  not 
much  more  on  other  thanksgiving-days,)  or  whether  they  may  so 
much  as  move  a  stick  out  of  the  way.  Others  he  moves  to  trouble 
themselves  with  scruples,  as  what  hour  the  day  begins  and  ends, 
and  the  like.  Whereas,  if  they,  I.  L^nderstood  that  worldly  rest 
is  commanded  but  as  help  to  spiritual  worship ;  2.  And  that 
they  must  employ  as  much  of  that  day  in  God's  work  as  they  do  of 
other  days  in  their  callings,  and  rest  in  the  night  as  at  other  times, 
and  that  God  looks  to  time  for  work's  sake,  and  not  at  the  work  for 
the  time's  sake ;  this  would  cast  out  most  of  their  scruples.  The 
like  course  Satan  takes  with  Christians  in  reading,  praying  in  se- 
cret, or  in  tlieir  families,  teaching  their  families,  reproving  sinners, 
teaching  the  ignorant,  meditation,  and  all  other  duties,  too  long  to 
mention  the  particular  scruples  which  he  thrusts  into  men's  heads, 
much  more  to  resolve  them,  which  would  require  a  large  volume 
alone. 

Now,  I  would  entreat  all  such  Christians  to  consider,  how  little 
they  please  God,  and  how  much  they  please  Satan,  and  how  much 
they  break  their  own  peace,  and  the  peace  of  the  churches.  If 
you  send  a  man  on  a  journey,  would  you  like  him  better  that  would 
stand  questioning  and  scrupling  every  step  he  goes,  v,  hcther  he 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  397 

set  the  right  foot  before?  Or  whether  he  should  go  in  the  foot- 
])ath  or  in  the  road  ?  Or  him  that  would  cheerfully  go  on,  not 
thinking  which  foot  goeth  forward  ;  and  rather  step  a  little  beside 
the  path,  and  in  again,  than  to  stand  scrupling  when  he  should  be 
going?  If  you  send  reapers  into  your  harvest,  which  would  you 
like  better,  him  that  would  stand  scrupling  how  many  straws  he 
should  cut  down  at  once,  and  at  what  height ;  and  with  fears  of 
cutting  them  too  high  or  too  low,  too  many  at  once,  or  too  few, 
should  do  you  but  little  work  ?  Or  him  that  should  do  his  work 
cheerfully,  as  well  as  he  can  ?  Would  you  not  be  angry  at  such 
childish,  unprofitable  diligence  or  curiosity,  as  is  a  hindrance  to 
your  work  ?  And  is  it  not  so  with  our  Master  ?  There  was  but 
one  of  those  parties  in  the  right  that  Paul  spoke  to ;  Rom.  xiv. 
XV.  And  yet  he  not  only  persuades  them  to  bear  with  one  an- 
other, and  not  to  judge  one  another,  but  to  receive  the  weak  in  faith, 
and  not  to  doubtful  disputations ;  but  he  bids  them,  "  Let  every 
man  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  own  mind."  How  ?  Can  he  that 
erreth  be  fully  persuaded  in  his  error  ?  Yes,  he  may  go  on  boldly 
and  confidently,  not  troubling  himself  with  demurs  in  his  duty,  as 
long  as  he  took  the  safer  side  in  his  doubt.  Not  that  he  should 
encourage  any  to  venture  on  sin,  or  to  neglect  a  due  inquiry  after 
God's  mind.  But  I  speak  against  tormenting  scruples,  which  do 
no  work,  but  hinder  from  it,  and  stay  us  from  our  duty. 

The  same  I  say  against  scruples  about  your  sins ;  Satan  will 
make  you  believe  that  every  thing  is  a  sin,  that  he  may  disquiet 
you,  if  he  cannot  get  you  to  believe  that  nothing  almost  is  sin,  that 
he  may  destroy  you.  You  shall  not  put  a  bit  in  your  mouth,  but 
he  will  move  a  scruple,  whether  it  were  not  too  good,  or  too  much. 
You  shall  not  clothe  yourself,  but  he  will  move  you  to  scruple 
the  lawfulness  of  it.  You  shall  not  come  into  any  company,  but 
he  will  afterwards  vex  you  about  every  word  you  spoke,  lest  you 
sinned. 

.  The  like  I  may  say  also  about  your  condition;  but  more  of  that 
anon. 

Direct.  XXVII.  '  When  God  had  once  showed  you  a  certain- 
ty, or  but  a  strong  probability  of  your  sincerity  and  his  especial 
love,  labor  to  fix  this  so  deep  in  your  apprehension  and  memory, 
that  it  may  serve  for  the  time  to  come,  and  not  only  for  the  pres- 
ent. And  leave  not  your  soul  too  open  to  changes,  upon  every 
new  apprehension,  nor  to  question  all  that  is  past  upon  every  jeal- 
ousy, except  when  some  notable  declining  to  the  world,  and  the 
Hesh,  or  a  committing  of  gross  sins,  or  a  willfulness  or  carelessness 
in  other  sins  that  you  may  avoid,  do  give  you  just  cause  of  ques- 
tioning your  sincerity,  and  bringing  your  soul  again  to  the  bar,  and 
vour  estate  to  a  more  exact  review.' 


398  DIRECTIONS    FOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

Some  Antinomian  writers  and  preachers  you  shall  meet  with, 
who  will  persuade  you,  whatsoever  sins  you  fall  into,  never  more 
to  question  your  justification  or  salvation.  1  have  said  enough 
before  to  prove  their  doctrine  detestable.  Their  reason  is  because 
God  changeth  not  as  we  change,  and  justification  is  never  lost.  To 
which  I  answer,  1.  God  hated  us  while  we  were  workers  of  ini- 
quity ;  Psal.  xi.  5.  v.  5. ;  and  was  angry  with  us  when  we  were 
children  of  wrath;  Ephes.  1 — 3.;  and  afterwards  he  laid  by  that 
hatred  and  wrath  ;  and  all  this  without  change.  If  we  cannot 
reach  to  apprehend  how  God's  unchangeableness  can  stand  with 
the  fullest  and  most  frequent  expressions  of  him  in  Scripture,  must 
we  therefore  deny  what  those  expressions  do  contain  ?  As  Austin 
saith,  'Shall  we  deny  that  which  is  plain,  because  we  cannot  reach 
that  which  is  obscure  and  diflicult  ? '  2.  But  if  these  men  had  well 
studied  the  Scriptures,  they  might  have  known  that  the  same  man 
that  was  yesterday  hated  as  an  enemy,  may  to-day  be  reconciled 
and  loved  as  a  son,  and  that  without  any  change  in  God  ;  even  as 
it  falls  out  within  the  reach  of  our  knowledge ;  for  God  ruleth  the 
world  by  his  laws  ;  they  are  his  moral  instruments ;  by  them  he 
condemneth  ;  by  them  he  justifieth,  so  far  as  he  is  said  in  this  life, 
before  the  judgment  day,  to  do  it,  (unless  there  be  any  other  secret 
act  of  justification  with  him,  which  man  is  not  able  now  to  under- 
stand.) The  change  is  therefore  in  our  relations,  and  in  the  moral 
actions  of  the  laws.  When  we  are  unbelievers,  and  impenitent,  we 
are  related  to  God  as  enemies,  rebels,  unjustified  and  unpardoned  ; 
being  such  as  God's  law  condemneth  and  pronounceth  enemies, 
and  the  law  of  grace  doth  not  yet  justify  or  pardon  ;  and  so  God  is, 
as  it  were,  in  some  sense  obliged,  according  to  that  law  which  we 
are  under,  to  deal  with  us  as  enemies,  by  destroying  us  ;  and  this 
is  God's  hating,  wrath,  &c.  When  we  repent,  return,  and  believe, 
our  relation  is  changed ;  the  same  law  that  did  condemn  us,  is  re- 
laxed and  disabled,  and  the  law  of  grace  doth  now  acquit  us ;  it 
pardoneth  us,  it  justifieth  us,  and  God  by  it ;  and  so  God  is  recon- 
ciled to  us,  when  we  are  such  as,  according  to  his  own  law  of  grace, 
he  is,  as  it  were,  obliged  to  forgive  and  to  do  good  to,  and  to  use 
as  sons.  Is  not  all  this  apparently  without  any  change  in  God  ? 
Cannot  he  make  a  law  that  shall  change  its  moral  action  according 
to  the  change  of  the  actions  or  inclinations  of  sinners?  And  this 
without  any  change  in  God  ?  And  so,  if  it  should  be  that  a  justi- 
fied man  should  fall  from  God,  from  Christ,  from  sincere  faith  or 
obedience,  the  law  would  condemn  him  again,  and  the  law  of  grace 
would  justify  him  no  more,  (in  that  state,)  and  all  this  without  any 
change  in  God.  3.  If  this  Antinomian  argument  would  prove  any 
thing,  it  would  prove  justification  before,  and  so  without  Christ's 
satisfaction,  because  there  is  no  change  in  God.     4.  The  very 


SPIRITUAL   PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  399 

point,  That  no  justified  man  shall  ever  fall  from  Christ,  is  not  so 
clear  and  fully  revealed  in  Scripture,  and  past  all  doubt  from  the 
assault  of  objections,  as  that  a  poor  soul  in  such  a  relapsed  estate 
should  venture  his  everlasting  salvation  wholly  on  this,  supposing 
that  he  were  certain  that  he  was  once  sincere.  For  my  own  part, 
I  am  persuaded  that  no  rooted  believer,  that  is  habitually  and 
groundedly  resolved  for  Christ,  and  hath  crucified  the  flesh  and 
the  world,  (as  all  have  that  are  thoroughly  Christ's,)  do  ever  fall 
quite  away  from  him  afterwards.  But  I  dare  not  lay  my  salvation 
on  this.  And  if  I  were  no  surer  of  my  salvation,  than  I  am  of  the 
truth  of  this  my  judgment,  to  speak  freely,  my  soul  would  be  in  a 
very  sad  condition.  5.  But  suppose  it  as  certain  and  plain  as  any 
word  in  the  gospel,  (that  a  justified  man  is  never  quite  unjustified ;) 
yet,  as  every  new  sin  brings  a  new  obligation  to  punishment,  (or 
else  they  could  not  be  pardoned,  as  needing  no  pardon,  so  must 
every  sin  have  its  particular  pardon,  and  consequently  the  sinner  a 
particular  justification  from  the  guilt  of  that  sin,)  besides  his  first 
general  pardon  (and  justification ;)  for  to  pardon  sin  before  it  is 
committed,  is  to  pardon  sin  that  is  no  sin,  which  is  a  contradiction 
and  impossibility.  Now,  though  for  daily,  unavoidable  infirmities, 
there  be  a  pardon  of  course,  upon  the  title  of  our  habitual  faith  and 
repentance  ;  yet,  whether  in  case  of  gross  sin,  or  more  notable  de- 
fection, this  will  prove  a  sufficient  title  to  particular  pardon,  without 
the  addition  of  actual  repentance ;  and  what  case  the  sinner  is  in 
till  that  actual  repentance  and  faith,  as  I  told  you  before,  are  so 
difficult  questions,  (it  being  ordered  by  God's  great  wisdom  that 
they  should  be  so,)  that  it  beseems  no  wise  man  to  venture  bis 
salvation  on  his  own  opinion  in  these.  Nay,  it  is  certain,  that 
if  gross  sinners,  having  opportunity  and  knowledge  of  their  sins, 
repent  not,  they  shall  perish.  And  therefore,  I  think,  a  justified 
man  hath  great  reason,  upon  such  falls,  to  examine  his  particular 
repentance,  (as  well  as  his  former  state,)  and  not  to  promise  him- 
self, or  presume  upon  a  pardon  without  it.  6.  And  besides  all 
this,  though  both  the  continuance  of  faith,  and  non-intercession  of 
justification,  be  never  so  certain,  yet  when  a  man's  obedience  is  so 
for  overthrown,  his  former  evidences  and  persuasions  of  his  justifi.- 
cation  will  be  uncertain  to  him.  Though  he  have  no  reason  to 
think  that  God  is  changeable,  or  justification  will  be  lost,  yet  he 
iiath  reason  enough  to  question  whether  ever  he  were  a  true  be- 
liever, and  so  were  ever  justified.  For  faith  worketh  by  love  ;  and 
they  that  love  Christ  will  keep  his  commandments.  Libertines 
and  carnal  men  may  talk  their  pleasure  ;  but  when  Satan  maintains 
not  their  peace,  sin  will  break  it :  and  Dr.  Sibbs's  words  will  be 
found  true,  "Soul's  Conflict,"  pp.  41,  42.  "Though  the  main 
})illar  of  our  comfort  be  the  free  forgiveness  of  our  sins,  yet,  if  there 


400  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

be  a  neglect  of  growing  in  holiness,  the  soul  will  never  be  soundly 
quiet,  because  it  will  be  prone  to  question  the  truth  of  justification; 
and  it  is  as  proper  for  sin  to  raise  doubts  and  fears  in  the  conscience, 
as  for  rotten  flesh  and  wood  to  breed  worms :  where  there  is  not  a 
pure  conscience,  there  is  not  a  pacified  conscience,"  &ic.  Read 
the  rest. 

Thus  much  I  have  been  fain  to  premise,  lest  my  words  for  con- 
solation should  occasion  security  and  desolation.  But  now  let  me 
desire  you  to  peruse  the  Direction  and  practice  it.  If  when  God 
hath  given  you  assurance,  or  strong  probabilities  of  your  sincerity, 
you  will  make  use  of  it  but  only  for  that  present  time,  you  will 
never,  then,  have  a  settled  peace  in  your  soul ;  besides  the  great 
wrong  you  do  to  God,  by  necessitating  him  to  be  so  often  renew- 
ing such  discoveries,  and  repeating  the  same  words  to  you  so  often 
over.  If  your  child  offend  you,  would  you  have  him,  when  he  is 
pardoned,  no  longer  to  beheve  it  than  you  are  telling  it  him  ? 
Should  he  be  still  asking  you  over  and  over  every  day,  '  Father, 
am  I  forgiven  or  no  ? '  Should  not  one  answer  serve  his  turn  ? 
Will  you  not  believe  that  your  money  is  in  your  purse  or  chest  any 
longer  than  you  are  looking  on  it  ?  Or  that  your  corn  is  growing 
on  your  land,  or  your  cattle  in  your  grounds,  any  longer  than  you 
are  looking  on  them  ?  By  this  course,  a  rich  man  should  have  no 
more  content  than  a  beggar,  longer  than  he  is  looking  on  his 
money,  or  goods,  or  lands ;  and  when  he  is  looking  on  one,  he 
should  again  lose  the  comfort  of  all  the  rest.  What  hath  God 
given  you  a  memory  for,  but  to  lay  up  former  apprehensions,  and 
discoveries,  and  experiences,  and  make  use  of  them  on  all  meet 
occasions  afterwards  ?  Let  me  therefore  persuade  you  to  this  great 
and  necessary  work.  When  God  hath  once  resolved  your  doubts, 
and  showed  you  the  truth,  of  your  faith,  love  or  obedience,  write  it 
down,  if  you  can,  in  your  book,  (as  I  have  advised  you  in  my 
Treatise  of  Rest,)  '  Such  a  day,  upon  serious  perusal  of  my  heart, 
I  found  it  thus  and  thus  with  myself,'  or  at  least,  write  it  deep  in 
your  memory ;  and  do  not  suffer  any  fancies,  or  fears,  or  light 
surmises,  to  cause  you  to  question  this  again,  as  long  as  you  fall  not 
from  the  obedience  or  faith  which  you  then  discovered.  Alas! 
man's  apprehension  is  a  most  mutable  thing !  If  you  leave  your 
soul  open  to  every  new  apprehension,  you  will  never  be  settled ; 
you  may  think  two  contrary  things  of  yourself  in  an  hour.  You 
have  not  always  the  same  opportunity  for  right  discerning,  nor 
the  same  clearness  of  apprehension,  nor  the  same  outward  means 
to  help  you,  nor  the  same  inward  assistance  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
When  you  have  these,  therefore,  make  use  of  them,  and  fix  your 
wavering  soul,  and  take  your  question  and  doubt  as  resolved,  and 
do  not  tempt  God,  by  calling  him  to  new  answers  again  and  again, 


SPIRITUAL    I'KACE    AND    COMFORT. 


401 


as  if  he  had  given  you  no  answer  before.  You  will  never  want 
some  occasion  of  jealousy  and  fears  as  long  as  you  have  corruption 
in  your  heart,  and  sin  in  your  life,  and  a  tempter  to  be  troubling 
you  ;  but  if  you  will  suffe'r  any  such  wind  to  shake  your  peace 
and  comforts,'  you  will  be  always  shaking  and  fluctuating  as  a  wave 
of  the  sea.  And  you  must  labor  to  apprehend  not  only  the  un- 
comfortableness,  but  the  sinfulness  also  of  this  course.  For  though 
the  questioning  your  own  sincerity  on  every  small  occasion,  bo  not 
near  so  great  a  sin  as  the  questioning  of  God's  merciful  nature,  or 
the  truth  of  his  promise,  or  his  readiness  to  show  mercy  to  the 
penitent  soul,  or  the  freeness  and  fullness  of  the  covenant  of  grace, 
yet  even  this  is  no  contemptible  sin.  For,  1.  You  are  doing  Sa- 
tan's work,  in  denying  God's  graces,  and  accusing  yourself  falsely, 
and  so  pleasing  the  devil  in  disquieting  yourself,  2.  You  slander 
God's  Spirit,  as  well  as  your  own  soul,  in  saying  he  hath  not  re- 
newed and  sanctified  you,  when  he  hath.  3.  This  will  necessitate 
you  to  further  unthankfulness ;  for  who  can  be  thankful  for  a  mercy 
that  thinks  he  never  received  it  ?  4.  This  will  shut  your  mouth 
against  all  those  praises  of  God,  and  that  heavenly,  joyful  com- 
memoration of  his  great,  unspeakable  love  to  your  soul,  which 
should  be  the  blessed  work  of  your  life,  5.  This  will  much  abate 
your  love  to  God,  and  your  sense  of  the  love  of  Christ  in  dying 
for  you,  and  all  the  rest  of  your  graces,  while  you  are  still  ques- 
tioning your  interest  in  God's  love.  6.  It  will  lay  such  a  dis- 
couragement on  your  soul,  as  will  both  destroy  the  sweetness  of 
all  duties  to  you,  (which  is  a  great  evil,)  and  thereby  make 
you  backward  to  them  and  heartless  in  them ;  you  will  have  no 
mind  of  praying,  meditation,  or  other  duties,  because  all  will  seem 
dark  to  you,  and  you  will  think  that  every  thing  makes  against  you. 
7.  You  rob  all  about  you  of  that  cheerful,  encouraging  example 
and  persuasion  which  they  should  have  from  you,  and  by  which 
you  might  win  many  souls  to  God.  And  contrarily  you  are  a  dis- 
couragement and  hindrance  to  them.  T  could  mention  many  more 
sinful  aggravations  of  your  denying  God's  graces  in  you  on  every 
small  occasion,  which  niethinks  si.ould  make  you  be  very  tender 
of  it,  if  not  to  avoid  unnecessary  trouble  to  yourself,  yet  at  least  to 
avoid  sin  against  God. 

And  what  I  have  said  of  evidences  and  assurance,  I  would  have 
you  understand  also  of  your  experiences.  You  must  not  make  use 
only  at  the  present  of  your  experiences,  but  lay  them  up  for  the 
time  to  come.  Nor  must  you  tempt  God  so  far  as  to  expect  new 
experiences  upon  every  new  scruple  or  doubt  of  yours,  as  the  Is- 
raelites expected  new  miracles  in  the  wilderness,  still  forgetting  the 
old.  If  a  scholar  should,  in  his  studies,  forget  all  that  he  hath  read 
and  learned,  and  all  the  resolutions  of  his  doubts,  which  in  study  he 

VOL.    I.  51 


1»T.- 


402        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

Lath  attained,  and  leave  his  understanding  still  as  an  unwritten  paper^ 
as  a  receptive  of  every  mutation  and  new  apprehension,  and  con- 
trary conceit,  as  if  he  had  never  studied  the  point  before,  he  will 
make  but  a  poor  proficiency,  and  have  but  a  fluctuated,  unsettled 
brain.  A  scholar  should  make  all  the  studies  of  his  life  to  com- 
pose one  entire  image  of  truth  in  his  soul,  as  a  painter  makes  every 
line  he  draws  to  compose  one  entire  picture  of  a  man ;  and  as  a 
weaver  makes  every  thread  to  compose  one  web ;  so  should  you 
make  all  former  examinations,  discoveries,  evidences,  and  experi- 
ences, compose  one  fidl  discovery  of  your  condition,  that  so  you 
may  have  a  settled  peace  of  soul ;  and  see  that  you  tie  both  ends 
together,  and  neither  look  on  your  present  troubled  state  without 
your  former,  lest  you  be  unthankful,  and  unjustly  discouraged ;  nor 
on  your  former  state  without  observance  of  your  present  frame  of 
heart  and  life,  lest  you  deceive  yourself,  or  grow  secure.  O  that 
you  could  well  observe  this  Direction !  How  much  would  it  help 
you  to  escape  extremes,  and  gonduce  to  the  settling  of  a  well- 
grounded  peace,  and  at  once  to  the  well  ordering  of  your  whole 
conversation  ! 

Direct.  XXVIII.  'Be  very  careful  that  you  create  not  perplexi- 
ties and  terrors  in  your  own  soul,  by  rash  misinterpretations  of  any 
passages  either  of  Scripture,  of  God's  providence,  or  of  the  ser- 
mons or  private  speeches  of  ministers ;  but  resolve  with  patience, 
yea,  with  gladness,  to  suffer  preachers  to  deal  with  their  congrega- 
tions in  the  most  searching,  serious  and  awakening  manner,  lest 
your  weakness  should  be  a  wrong  to  the  whole  assembly,  and  pos- 
sibly the  undoing  of  many  a  sensual,  drowsy  or  obstinate  soul,  who 
will  not  be  convuiced  and  awakened  by  a  comforting  way  of  preach- 
ing, or  by  any  smoother  or  gentler  means. ' 

'  Here  are  three  dangerous  ea|inies  to  your  peace,  which  (for 
brevity)  I  warn  you  of  together. 

1,  Rash  misinterpretations  and  misapplications  of  Scripture. 
Some  weak-headed,  troubled  Christians  can  scarce  read  a  chapter, 
or  hear  one  read,  but  they  will  find  something  vdiich  they  think 
doth  condemn  them.  If  tliey  read  of  God's  wrath  and  judgment, 
they  think  it  is  meant  against  them.  If  they  read,  ''-Our  God  is  a 
consiiming  fire,"  they  think  presently  it  is  themselves  tliat  must 
be  the  fuel ;  whereas  justice  and  mercy  have  each  their  proper 
objects ;  the  burning  fire  will  not  waste  the  gold,  nor  is  water  the 
fuel  of  it ;  but  combustible  matter  it  will  presently  consume.  A 
humble  soul  that  lies  ])rcstrate  at  Christ's  feet,  confessing  its  un- 
worthiness,  and  bewailing  its  sinfulness,  this  is  not  the  object  of  re- 
venging justice  ;  such  a  soul  bringing  Christ's  mercies,  and  pleading 
them  with  God,  is  so  far  from  being  the  fuel  of  this  consuming  fire, 
that    he   biin.'Tctli  that  water  which  will  undoubtedly  quench  it. 


SPIRITUAL    FEACE    AND    COMFORT,  403 

Yet  this  Scripture  expression  of  our  God  may  subdue  carnal  secu- 
rity even  in  the  best,  but  not  dismay  tliem  or  discourage  them  in 
their  hopes.  Another  reads,  in  Psahn  1.,  "  I  will  set  thy  sins  in 
order  before  thee ; "  and  be  thinks,  certainly  God  will  deal  thus 
by  him,  not  considering  that  God  chargeth  only  their  sins  upon 
them  that  charge  them  not  by  true  repentance  on  themselves,  and 
accept  not  of  Christ,  who  hath  discharged  them  by  his  blood.  It 
is  the  excusers,  and  mhicers,  and  defenders  of  sin,  that  love  nor. 
those  that  reprove  them,  and  that  will  not  avoid  them,  or  the  oc- 
casions of  them,  that  would  not  be  reformed,  and  will  not  be  per- 
suaded, in  whose  souls  iniquity  hath  dominion,  and  that  delight  in 
it ;  it  is  these  on  whom  God  chargeth  their  sins  :  ''  For  this  is  the 
condemnation,  that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  men  love 
darkness  rather  than  light ;  and  come  not  to  the  light,  lest  their 
deeds  should  be  reproved  ;  "  John  iii.  20,  21.  But  for  the  soul  that 
trembleth  at  God's  word,  and  comes  home  to  God  W'ith  shame  and 
sorrow,  resolving  to  return  no  more  to  wickedness,  God  is  so  far 
from  charging  his  sins  upon  him,  that  he  never  mentioneth  them, 
as  1  told  you,  is  evident  in  the  case  of  the  prodigal.  He  makes 
not  a  poor  sinner's  burden  more  heavy  by  hitting  him  in  the  teeth 
with  his  sins,  but  makes  it  the  office  of  his  Son  to  ease  him  by  dis- 
burdening him. 

Many  more  texts  might  be  named  (and  perhaps  it  would  not  be 
lost  labor)  which  troubled  souls  do  misunderstand  and  misapply ; 
but  it  would  make  this  writing  tedious,  which  is  already  swelled  so 
far  beyond  my  first  intention. 

2.  The  second  enemy  of  your  peace  here  mentioned,  is,  Misun- 
derstanding and  misapplying  passages  of  providence.  Nothing 
is  more  common  with  troubled  souls,  than  upon  every  new  cross 
and  affliction  that  befalls  them,  presently  to  think,  God  takes  them 
for  hypocrites ;  and  to  question  their  sincerity  !  As  if  David  and 
Job  had  not  left  them  a  full  warning  against  this  temptation.  Do 
you  lose  your  goods  ?  So  did  Job.  Do  you  lose  your  children  ? 
So  did  Job ;  and  that  in  no  very  comfortable  way.  Do  you  lose 
your  health  ?  So  did  Job,  What  if  your  godly  friends  should 
come  about  you  in  this  case,  and  bend  all  their  wits  and  speeches 
to  persuade  you  that  you  are  but  a  hypocrite,  as  Job's  friends  did 
by  him;  would  not  this  put  you  harder  to  it?  Yet  could  Job 
resolve,  "  I  will  not  let  go  mine  integrity  till  I  die.''  I  know 
God's  chastisements  are  all  paternal  punishments ;  and  that  Chris- 
tians should  search  and  try  their  hearts  and  ways  at  such  times ; 
but  not  conclude  that  they  are  graceless  ever  the  more  for  being 
afflicted,  seeing  God  chasteneth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth  ; 
Heb.  xii.  6,  7.  And  in  searching  after  sin  itself  in  your  afflictions, 
be  sure  that  you  make  th^  word,  and  not  your  sufferings,  the  rule 


404         DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

to  discover  how  far  you  have  sinned ;  and  let  afflictions  only  quick- 
en you  to  try  by  the  word.  How  many  a  soul  have  I  known  that, 
by  misinterpreting  providences,  have,  in  a  blind  jealousy,  been 
turned  quite  from  truth  and  duty,  supposing  it  had  been  error  and 
sin  ;  and  all  because  of  their  afflictions.  As  a  foolish  man  in  his 
sickness  accuseth  the  last  meat  that, he  eat  before  he  fell  sick, 
though  it  might  be  the  wholesomest  that  ever  he  eat,  and  the 
disease  may  have  many  causes  which  he  is  ignorant  of  One  man 
being  sick,  a  busy,  seducing  Papist  comes  to  him,  (for  it  is  their  use 
to  take  such  opportunities,)  and  tells  him,  '  It  is  God's  hand  upon 
you  for  forsaking  or  straying  from  the  Roman  Catholic  church, 
and  God  hath  sent  this  affliction  to  bring  you  home.  All  your 
ancestors  Uved  and  died  in  this  church,  and  so  must  you,  if  ever 
you  will  be  saved.'  The  poor,  jealous,  affrighted  sinner,  hearing 
this,  and  through  his  ignorance  being  unable  to  answer  him,  thinks 
it  even  true,  and  presently  turns  Papist.  In  the  same  manner  do 
most  other  sects.  How  many  have  the  Antinomians  and  Anabap- 
tists thus  seduced  I  Finding  a  poor  silly  woman  (for  it  is  most 
commonly  with  them)  to  be  under  sad  doubts  and  distress  of  soul, 
one  tells  her,  '  It  is  God's  hand  on  you  to  convince  you  of  error, 
and  to  bring  you  to  submit  to  the  ordinance  of  baptism  ; '  and  upon 
this  many  have  been  rebaptized,  and  put  their  foot  into  the  snare 
which  I  have  yet  seen  few  escape  and  draw  tack  from.  Another 
comes  and  tells  the  troubled  soul, '  It  is  legal  preaching,  and  looking 
at  something  in  yourself  for  peace  and  comfort,  which  hath  brought 
you  to  this  distress :  as  long  as  you  follow  these  legal  preachers, 
and  read  their  books,  and  look  at  any  thing  in  yourself,  and  seek 
assurance  from  marks  within  you,  it  will  never  be  better  with  you. 
These  preachers  understand  not  the  nature  of  free  grace,  nor  ever 
tasted  it  themselves,  and  therefore  they  cannot  preach  it,  but  de- 
spise it.  You  must  know  that  grace  is  so  free  that  the  covenant 
hath  no  condition :  you  must  believe,  and  not  look  after  the  marks. 
And  believing  is  but  to  be  persuaded  that  God  is  reconciled  to  you, 
and  hath  forgiven  you ;  for  you  were  justified  before  you  were 
born,  if  you  are  one  of  the  elect,  and  can  but  believe  it.  It  is  not 
any  thing  of  your  own,  by  which  you  can  be  justified ;  nor  is  it 
any  sin  of  yours  that  can  unjustify.  It  is  the  witness  of  the  Spirit 
only  persuading  you  of  your  justification  and  adoption,  that  can 
give  you  assurance  ;  and  fetching  it  from  any  thing  in  yourself,  is 
but  a  resting  on  your  own  righteousness,  and  forsaking  Christ.' 
When  the  Antinomian  hath  but  sung  this  ignorant  charm  to  a  poor 
soul  as  ignorant  as  himself,  and  prepared  by  terrors  to  entertain  the 
impression,  presently  it  (oft)  takes,  and  the  sinner  without  a  wonder 
of  mercy  is  undone.  This  doctrine,  Vvhich  subvertetli  the  very 
scope  of  the  gospel,  being  entertained,  subvertetli  his  faith  and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  405 

obedience ;  and  usually  the  libertinism  of  his  opinion  is  seen  in  his 
liberty  of  conscience,  and  licentious  practices ;  and  his  trouble  of 
mind  is  cured,  as  a  burning  fever  by  opium,  which  give  him  such 
a  sleep,  that  he  never  awaketh  till  he  be  in  another  world.  Yet 
these  errors  are  so  gross,  and  so  fully  against  the  express  texts  of 
Scripture,  that  if  ministers  would  condescendingly,  lovingly  and 
familiarly  deal  with  them,  and  do  their  duty,  I  should  hope  many 
well-meaning  souls  might  be  recovered.  Thus  you  see  the  danger 
of  rash  interpreting,  and  so  misinterpreting  providences.  As  such 
interpretations  of  prosperity  and  success  delude  not  only  the  Ma- 
hometan world,  and  the  profane  world,  but  many  that  seemed 
godly,  so  many  such  interpretations  of  adversity  and  crosses  do ; 
especially  if  the  seducer  be  but  kind  and  liberal  to  relieve  them  in 
their  adversity,  he  may  do  with  many  poor  souls  almost  what  he 
please. 

3.  The  third  enemy  to  your  peace  here  mentioned,  is,  Mis- 
interpreting or  misapplying  the  passages  of  preachers  in  their 
sermons,  writings  or  private  speeches.  A  minister  cannot  deal 
thorougl)ly  or  seriously  with  any  sort  of  sinners,  but  some  fearfiil, 
troubled  souls  apply  all  to  themselves.  I  must  entreat  you  to  avoid 
this  fault,  or  else  you  will  turn  God's  ordinances  and  the  daily  food 
of  your  souls  into  bitterness  and  wormwood,  and  all  through  your 
mistakes.  1  think  there  are  few  ministers  so  preach,  but  you  might 
perceive  whom  they  mean,  and  they  so  difference  as  to  tell  you 
whom  they  speak  to.  I  confess  it  is  a  better  sign  of  an  honest  heart 
and  self-judging  conscience,  to  say,  '  He  speaks  now  to  me  ;  this 
is  my  case  ; '  than  to  say, '  He  speaks  now  to  such  or  such  a  one  ; 
this  is  their  case.'  For  it  is  tlie  property  of  hypocrites  to  have 
their  eye  most  abroad,  and  in  every  duty  to  be  minding  most  the 
faults  of  others  :  and  you  may  much  discern  such  in  their  prayers, 
in  that  they  will  fill  their  confessions  most  with  other  men's  sins  ; 
and  you  may  feel  them  all  the  while  in  the  bosom  of  their  neigh- 
bors, when  you  may  even  feel  a  sincere  man  speaking  his  own 
heart,  and  most  opening  his  own  bosom  to  God.  But  though  self- 
applying  and  self-searching  be  far  the  better  sign,  yet  must  not  any 
wise  Christian  do  it  mistakingly  ;  for  that  may  breed  abundance  of 
very  sad  effects.  For  besides  the  aforesaid  imbittering  of  God's 
ordinances  to  you,  and  so  discouraging  you  from  them,  do  but  con- 
sider what  a  grief  and  a  snare  you  may  prove  to  your  minister. 
A  grief  it  must  needs  be  to  him  who  knows  he  should  not  make 
sad  the  soul  of  the  innocent,  to  think  that  he  cannot  avoid  it,  with- 
out avoiding  his  duty.  When  God  hath  put  two 'several  messages 
in  our  mouths ;  "  Say  to  the  righteous,  it  shall  be  well  with  him  ; " 
and  "  Say  to  the  wicked,  it  shall  be  ill  with  him  ; "  Isaiah  iii.  10, 
11.     "  He  that  believeth  shall  be  saved:    he  that  bclieveth  not 


^06        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

shall  be  damned ;  "  and  we  speak  both ;  will  you  take  that  as  spok- 
en to  you,  which  is  spoken  to  the  unbeliever  and  the  wicked  ? 
Alas  !,  how  is  it  possible  then,  for  us  to  forbear  troubling  you  1  If 
you  will  put  your  head  under  every  stroke  that  we  give  against  sin 
and  sinners,  how  can  we  help  it  if  you  smart  ?  What  a  sad  case 
are  we  in  by  such  misapplications !  We  have  but  two  messages 
to  deliver,  and  both  are  usually  lost  by  misapplications.  The  wick- 
ed saith,  '  I  am  the  righteous,  and  therefore  it  shall  go  well  with 
me.'  The  righteous  saith,  '  I  am  the  wicked,  and  therefore  it 
shall  go  ill  with  me.'  The  unbeliever  saith,  '  I  am  a  believer,  and 
therefore  am  justified.'  The  believer  saith,  '  I  am  an  unbeliever, 
and  therefore  am  condemned.'  Nay,  it  is  not  only  the  loss  of  our 
preaching,  but  we  oft  do  tliem  much  harm  ;  for  they  are  hardened 
that  should  be  humbled  :  and  they  are  wounded  more  that  should 
be  healed,  A  minister  must  now  needs  tell  them  who  he  means 
by  the  believer,  and  who  by  the  unbeliever;  who  by  the  righteous, 
and  who  by  the  wicked  ;  and  yet  when  he  hath  done  it  as  accurate- 
ly and  as  cautelously  as  he  can,  misapplying  souls  will  wrong 
themselves  by  it.  So  that  because  people  cannot  see  the  distin- 
guishing line,  it  therefore  comes  to  pass,  that  few  are  comforted  but 
when  ministers  preach  nothing  else  but  comfort ;  and  few  humbled 
but  where  ministers  bend  almost  all  their  endeavors  that  way,  that 
people  can  feel  almost  nothing  else  from  him.  But  for  him  that 
equally  would  divide  to  each  their  portion,  each  one  snatcheth  up 
the  part  of  another,  and  he  oft  misseth  of  profiting  either ;  and 
yet  this  is  the  course  that  we  must  take. 

And  what  a  snare  is  this  to  us,  as  well  as  a  grief  !  What  if  we 
should  be  so  moved  with  compassion  of  your  troubles,  as  to  fit  al- 
most all  our  doctrine  and  application  to  you  ;  what  a  fearful  guilt 
should  we  draw  upon  our  own  souls  ! 

Nay,  what  a  snare  may  you  thus  prove  to  the  greater  part  ol 
the  congregation  !  Alas !  we  have  seldom  past  one,  or  two,  or 
three  troubled  consciences  in  an  auditory,  (and  perhaps  some  ot 
their  troubles  be  the  fruit  of  such  willful  sinning,  that  they  have 
more  need  of  greater,  yet)  should  we  now  neglect  all  the  rest  of 
these  poor  souls,  to  preach  only  to  you  ?  O,  how  many  an  igno- 
rant, hard-hearted  sinner  comes  before  God  every  day  !  Shall  we 
let  such  go  away  as  they  came,  without  ever  a  blow  to  awaken 
them  and  stir  their  hearts,  when,  alas  !  all  that  ever  we  can  do  is 
too  little?  When  we  preach  you  into  tears  and  trembling,  we 
preach  them  asleep  !  Could  we  speak  words,  it  would  scarce 
make  them  feel,  when  you  through  misapplication  have  gone  home 
with  anguish  and  fears.  How  kw  of  all  these  have  been  pricked 
at  the  heart,  and  said,  "  What  shall  we  do  to  be  saved?  "  Have 
you  no  pity  now  on  such  sUipid  souls  as  these?     1  fear  this  one 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    ANt>    COMFORT.  407 

tlisteiiiper  of  yours,  that  you  cannot  bear  this  rousing  preaching, 
doth  betray  another  and  greater  sin ;  look  to  it,  I  beseech  you,  for 
I  think  I  have  spied  out  the  cause  of  your  trouble ;  are  you  not 
yourself  too  great  a  stranger  to  poor  stupid  sinners  ?  and  come  not 
among  them  ?  or  pity  them  not  as  you  should  ?  and  do  not  your 
duty  for  the  saving  of  their  souls ;  but  think  it  belongs  not  to  you,  but 
to  others  ?  Do  you  use  to  deal  with  servants  and  neighbors  about 
you,  and  tell  them  of  sin  and  misery,  and  the  remedy,  and  seek  to 
draw  their  hearts  to  Christ,  and  bring  them  to  duty  ?  I  doubt  you 
do  little  in  this;  (and  that  is  sad  unmercifulness  ;)  for  if  you  did, 
truly  you  could  not  choose  but  find  such  miserable  ignorance,  such 
senselessness  and  blockishness,  such  hating  reproof  and  unwilling- 
ness to  be  reformed,  such  love  of  this  world,  and  slavery  to  the  flesh, 
and  so  little  favor  of  Christ,  grace,  heaven,  and  the  things  of  the 
Spirit,  and  especially  such  an  unteachableness,untractableness,  (as 
thorns  and  briars,)  and  so  great  a  difficulty  moving  them  an  inch 
from  what  they  are,  that  you  would  have  been  willing  ever  after  to 
have  ministers  preach  more  rousingly  than  they  do,  and  you  would 
be  glad  for  their  sakes.  when  you  heard  that  which  might  awake 
them  and  prick  them  to  the  heart.  Yea,  if  you  had  tried  how 
hard  a  work  it  is  to  bring  worldly,  formal  hypocrites  to  see  their 
hypocrisy,  or  to  come  over  to  Christ  from  the  creature,  and  to  be 
in  good  earnest  in  the  business  of  their  salvation,  you  would  be  glad 
to  have  preachers  search  them  to  the  quick,  and  ransack  their  hearts, 
and  help  them  against  their  affected  and  obstinate  self-delusions. 

Besides,  you  should  consider  that  their  case  is  far  different  from 
yours  ;  your  disease  is  pain  and  trouble,  they  are  stark  dead :  you 
have  God's  favor  and  doubt  of  it,  tbey  are  his  enemies  and  never 
suspect  it :  you  want  comfort,  and  they  want  pardon  and  life;  if 
your  disease  should  never  here  be  cured,  it  is  but  going  more  sad- 
ly to  heaven,  but  if  they  be  not  recovered  by  regeneration,  they 
must  lie  forever  in  hell.  And  should  we  not,  then,  pity  them  more 
than  you  ;  and  study  more  for  them  ;  and  preach  more  for  them ; 
and  rather  foi-get  you  in  a  sermon  than  them  ?  Should  you  not 
wish  us  so  to  clo  ?  Should  we  more  regard  the  comforting  of  one 
than  the  saving  of  a  hundred?  Nay,  more;  we  should  not  only 
neglect  them,  but  dangerously  hurt  them,  if  we  should  preach  too 
much  to  the  case  of  troubled  souls ;  for  you  are  not  so  apt  to  mis- 
apply passages  of  terror,  and  to  take  their  portion,  as  they  are  apt 
10  apply  to  themselves  such  passages  lor  comfort,  and  take  your 
portion  to  themselves. 

1  know  some  will  say,  that  it  is  preaching  Christ,  and  setting 
forth  God's  love,  that  will  win  them  best,  and  terrors  do  but  make 
unwilling,  hypocritical  professors.  This  makes  me  remember  how 
I  have  heard  some  preachers  of  the  times  blame  their  brethren  for 


408  IDIRKCTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

not  preaching  Christ  to  their  people^  when  they  preached  the  dan- 
ger of  rejecting  Christ,  disobeying  him,  and  resisting  his  Spirit. 
Do  these  men  think  that  it  is  no  preaching  Christ  (when  we  have 
first  many  years  told  men  the  fullness  of  his  satisfaction,  the  free- 
ness  and  general  extent  of  his  covenant  or  promise,  and  the  riches 
of  his  grace,  and  the  incomprehensibleness  of  his  glory,  and  the 
truth  of  all)  to  tell  them  afterwards  the  danger  of  refusing,  neglect- 
ing and  disobeying  him;  and  of  living  after  the  flesh,  and  prefer- 
ring the  world  before  him;  and  serving  mammon,  and  falling  olTin 
persecution,  and  avoiding  the  cross,  and  yielding  in  temptation, 
and  quenching  the  Spirit,  and  declining  from  their  first  love,  and 
not  improving  their  talents,  and  not  forgiving  and  loving  their  breth- 
ren, yea,  and  enemies?  &c.     Is  none  of  this  gospel?  nor  preach- 
ing Christ  ?     Yea,  is  not  repentance  itself  (except  despairing  re- 
pentance) proper  to  the  gospel,  seeing  the  law  excludeth  it,  and 
all  manner  of  hope?     Blame  me  not,  reader,  if  I  be  zealous  against 
these  men,  that  not  only  know  no  better  what  preaching  Christ  is, 
but  in  their  ignorance  reproach  their  brethren  for   not  preaching 
Christ,  and  withal  condemn   Christ  himself  and  all  his  apostles. 
Do  they  think  that  Christ  himself  knew  not  what  it  was  to  preach 
Christ  ?     Or  that  he  set  us  a  pattern  too  low  for  our  imitation  ?     I 
desire  them  soberly  to  read  Matt.  v.  vi.  vii.  x.  xxv.  Rom.  viii.  iv. 
from  the  first  verse  to  the  fourteenth,  Rom.  ii.  Heb.  ii.  iv.  v.  x., 
and  then  tell  me  whether  we  preach  as  Christ  and  his  apostles  did. 
But  to  the  objection,  I  answer,  1.  We  do  set  forth  God's  love,  and 
the  fullness  of  Christ,  and  the  sufficiency  of  his  death  and  satisfac- 
tion for  all,  and  the  freeness  and  extent  of  his  offer  and  promise  of 
mercy,  and  his  readiness  to  welcome  returning  sinners:  this  we  do 
first,  (mixing  with  this  the  discovery  of  their  natural  misery  by  sin, 
which  must  be  first  known  ;)  and  next  we  show  them  the  danger  of 
rejecting  Christ  and  his  office.     2.  When  we  find  men  settled  un- 
der the  preaching  of  free  grace,  in  a  base  contempt  or  sleepy  neg- 
lect of  it,  preferring  the  world  and  their  carnal  pleasures  and  ease 
before  all  the  glory  of  heaven,  and  riches  of  Christ  and  grace,  is  it 
not  time  for  us  to  say,  "  How  shall  ye   escape,  if  ye  neglect  so 
great  salvation  ?  "  Heb.  ii.  3.     "  And  of  how  much  sorer  punish- 
ment shall  he  be  thought  worthy,  that  treads  under  foot  the  blood 
of  the  covenant?"  Heb.  x.  26.     When  men  grow   careless  and 
unbelieving,  must  we  not  say,  "  Take  heed  lest,  a  promise  being 
left  of  entering  into  his  rest,  any  of  you  should  seem  to  come  short 
of  it?"  Heb.  iv.  1.3.     Hath  not  Christ  led  us,  commanded  us, 
and  taught  us  this  way?     "  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  perish," 
was  his  doctrine  ;  Luke  xiii.  3.  5.     "  Go  into  all  the  world,   and 
preach  the  gospel  to    every  creature : "  (what  is  that    gospel  ?) 
'^  He  that  belie veth  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall 


SPIRITUAL    I'EACE    AiND    COMFORT.  409 

be  clainued  ;  "  Mark  xvi.  16.  '•' Those  mine  enemies  that  would 
not  1  should  reign  over  them,  bring  hither  and  slay  them  before 
me  ;  "  Luke  xix.  27.  Doth  any  of  the  apostles  'speak  more  ot 
hell-lire,  and  the  worm  that  never  dieth,  and  the  fire  that  never  is 
quenched,  than  Christ  himself  doth  ?  And  do  not  his  apostles  go 
the  same  way  ;  even  Paul,  the  great  preacher  of  faith  ?  (2  Thess.  i. 
7 — 9.  ii.  12,  he.)  What  more  common?  Alas!  what  work 
should  we  make,  if  we  should  stroke  and  smooth  all  men  with  Anti- 
nomian  language  !  It  were  the  way  to  please  all  the  sensual,  pro- 
fane multitude,  but  it  is  none  of  Christ's  way  to  save  their  souls. 
I  am  ready  to  think  that  these  men  would  have  Christ  preached 
as  the  Papists  would  have  him  prayed  to;  to  say,  'Jesu,  Jesu, 
Jesu,'  nine  times  together,  and  this  oft  over,  is  their  praying  to 
him  ;  and  to  have  (Christ's  name  oft  in  the  preacher's  mouth,  some 
men  think  is  the  right  preaching  Christ. 

Let  me  now  desire  you  hereafter  to  be  glad  to  hear  ministers 
awaken  the  profane  and  dead-hearted  hearers,  and  search  all  to 
the  quick,  and  misapply  nothing  to  yourself;  but  if  you  think  any 
passage  doth  nearly  concern  you,  open  your  mind  to  the  minister 
privately,  when  he  may  satisfy  you  more  fully,  and  that  without  do- 
ing hurt  to  others  ;  and  consider  what  a  strait  ministers  are  in,  that 
have  so  many  of  so  different  conditions,  inclinations,  and  conversa- 
tions to  preach  to. 

Direct.  XXIX.  '  Be  sure  you  forget  not  to  distinguish  between 
causes  of  doubting  of  your  sincerity,  and  causes  of  mere  humilia- 
tion, repentance,  and  amendment ;  and  do  not  raise  doubtings  and 
fears,  where  God  calleth  you  but  to  humiliation,  amendment,  and 
fresh  recourse  to  Christ.' 

This  rule  is  of  so  great  moment  to  your  peace,  that  you  will  have 
daily  use  for  it,  and  can  never  maintain  any  true  settled  peace 
without  the  practice  of  it.  What  more  common  than  for  poor 
Christians  to  pour  out  a  multitude  of  complaints  of  their  weak- 
nesses, and  wants,  and  miscarriages  ;  and  never  consider  all  the 
while  that  there  may  be  cause  of  sorrow  in  these,  when  yet  there 
is  no  cause  of  doubting. of  their  sincerity  !  I  have  showed  before, 
that  in  gross  falls  and  great  backslidings,  doubtings  will  arise,  and 
sometimes  our  fears  and  jealousies  may  not  be  without  cause  ;  but 
it  is  not  ordinary  infirmities,  nor  every  sin  which  might  have  been 
avoided,  that  is  just  cause  of  doubling  ;  nay,  your  very  humiliation 
must  no  further  be  endeavored  than  it  tends  to  your  recovery,  and 
to  the  honoring  of  mercy ;  for  it  is  possible  that  you  may  exceed 
in  the  measure  of  your  griefs.  You  must  therefore  first  be  resolv- 
ed, wherein  the  truth  of  saving  grace  doth  consist,  and  then  in  all 
your  failings  and  weaknesses  first  know,  whether  they  contradict 
sincerity  in  itself,  and  are  such  as  may  give  just  cause  to  question 
VOL.  I.  52 


410  OIKECTiONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

your  sincerity- :  if  tbcy  be  not,  (as  tiie  ordinary  infirmities  of  be- 
lievers are  not,^^  tben  you  may  and  must  be  bumbled  for  tbem  ;  but 
you  may  not  doubt  of  j^our  salvation  for  them.  I  told  you  before 
by  v.'hai  marks  you  may  discern  your  sincerity ;  that  is,  wlierein  the 
nature  of  savin<^  faith  and  holiness  doth  consist;  keep  that  in  your 
eye,  and  as  long  as  you  find  that  sure  and  clear,  let  nothing  make 
you  doubt  of  your  right  to  Christ  and  glory.  But,  alas !  how  peo- 
ple do  contradict  the  will  of  God  in  this  !  When  you  have  sinned, 
God  would  have  you  bewail  your  folly  and  unkind  dealing,  and  fly 
to  rnercy  through  Christ,  and  this  you  will  not  do ;  but  he  would 
not  have  you  torment  yourselves  with  fears  of  damnation,  and 
questioning  his  love,  and  yet  this  you  will  do.  You  may  discern 
b}''  this,  that  humiliation  and  reformation  are  sure  of  God,  man's 
heart  is  so  backward  to  it ;  and  that  vexations,  doubts  and  fears  in 
tiue  Christians  that  should  be  comfortable,  are  not  of  God,  man's 
nature  is  so  prone  to  them,  (though  the  ungodly  that  should  fear 
and  doubt,  are  as  backward  to  it.) 

I  think  it  will  not  be  unseasonable  here  to  lay  down  the  particu- 
lar doubts  that  usually  trouble  sincere  believers,  and  see  how  far 
they  may  be  just,  and  how  far  unjust  and  causeless ;  and  most  ot 
them  shall  be  from  my  own  former  experience,  and  such  as  1  have 
been  most  troubled  with  myself,  and  the  rest  such  as  are  incident 
to  true  Christians,  and  too  usual  with  them. 

Doubt  1.  '  I  have  often  heard  and  read  in  the  best  divines,  that 
grace  is  not  born  with  us,  and  therefore  Satan  hath  always  posses- 
sion before  Christ,  and  keeps  that  possession  in  peace,  till  Christ 
come  and  bind  him  and  cast  him  out ;  and  that  this  is  so  great  a 
work  that  it  cannot  choose  but  be  observed,  and  forever  remem- 
bered, by  the  soul  where  it  is  wrought;  yea,  the  several  steps  and 
passages  of  it  may  be  all  observed  ;  first  casting  down  and  then  lilt- 
ing up;  first  wounding  and  killing,  and  then  healing  and  reviving. 
But  I  have  not  observed  the  distinct  parts  and  passages  of  this 
change  in  me ;  nay,  1  know  of  no  such  sudden,  observable  change 
at  all :  I  cannot  remember  that  ever  I  was  first  killed,  and  then  re- 
vived ;  nor  do  1  knov/  by  what  minister,  nor  at  what  sermon,  or 
other  means  that  work  which  is  upon  me  was  wrought ;  no,  nor 
what  day,  or  month,  or  year  It  was  begim.  I  have  slided  inseasi- 
b!y  into  a  profession  of  religion,  I  know  not  how  ;  and  therefore  I 
ihiiv  that  I  am  not  sincere,  and  the  work  of  true  regeneration  was 
never  yet  wrcuglit  upon  my  soul.' 

Answ.  I  will  lay  down  the  full  answer  to  this,  in  these  propo'-'i- 
tJons.  l.-..It  is  true  th.at  grace  is  not  natural  tons,  or  conveyed  by 
generation.  2.  Yet  it  is  as  true  that  grace  is  given  to  our  children 
as  ■jvell  as  to  us.  That  it  may  be  so,  and  is  so  witli  some,  all  will 
grant  who  believe  that  infants  may  be,  and  are  saved  ;  and  that  it 


SHIRiralL    PEACE    i.Vl)    COMPORT.  411 

Is  so  with  the  infants  of  believers,  I  have  fully  proved  in  my  Book 
of  l:Japtisai ;  but  mark  what  ^race  I  mean.  The  grace  of  remis- 
sion of  original  sin,  the  children  of  all  true  believers  have  at  least  a 
high  probability  of,  if  not  a  full  certainty  ;  their  parent  accepting  it 
for  himself  and  them,  and  dedicating  them  to  Christ,  and  engaging 
them  in  his  covenant,  so  that  he  takes  them  for  his  people,  and  they 
take  him  for  their  Lord  and  Savior.  And  for  the  grace  of  inward 
renewing  of  their  natures  or  disposition,  it  is  a  secret  to  us,  utterly 
unknown  whether  God  use  to  do  it  in  infants  or  no.  3.  God's  first 
ordained  way  for  the  working  of  inward  holiness  is  by  parents' 
education  of  their  children,  and  not  by  the  public  ministry  of  the 
word  ;  ^of  which  more  anon.  4.  All  godly  parents  do  acquaint 
their  children  with  the  doctrine  of  Christ  in  their  infancy,  as  soon 
as  they  are  capable  of  receiving  it,  and  do  afterwards  inculcate  it 
on  them  more  and  more.  5.  These  instructions  of  parents  are 
usually  seconded  by  the  workings  of  the  Spirit,  according  to  the 
capacity  of  the  child,  opening  tiieir  understandings  to  receive  it, 
and  making  an  impression  thereby  upon  the  heart.  6.  When  these 
instructions  and  inward  workings  of  the  Spirit  are  just  past  the  pre- 
paratory part,  and  above  the  highest  step  of  common  grace,  and 
have  attained  to  special  saving  grace,  is  ordinarily  undiscernible; 
and  therefore,  as  I  have  showed  already,  in  God's  usual  way  of 
working  grace,  men  cannot  know  the  just  day  or  time  when  they 
began  to  be  in  the  state  of  grace.  And  though  men  that  have  long 
lived  in  profaneness,  and  are  changed  suddenly,  may  conjecture 
near  at  the  time,  yet  those  that  God  hath  been  working  on  early 
in  their  youth,  yea,  or  afterwards  by  slow  degrees,  cannot  know  the 
time  of  their  first  receiving  the  Spirit.  8.  The  memories  of  all 
men  are  so  slippery,  and  one  thought  so  suddenly  thrust  out  by 
another,  that  many  a  thousand  souls  forget  those  particular  work- 
ings which  they  have  truly  felt.  9.  The  memories  of  children  are 
far  weaker  than  of  others ;  and  therefore  it  is  less  probable  that  all 
the  Spirit's  workings  should  by  them  be  remembered.  10.  And 
the  motions  of  grace  are  so  various,  sometimes  stirring  one  affection 
and  sometimes  another,  sometimes  beginning  with  smaller  motions, 
and  then  moving  more  strongly  and  sensibly,  tliat  it  is  usual  for  lat- 
er motions,  which  are  more  deeply  affecting,  to  make  us  overlook 
all  the  former,  or  take  them  for  nothing.  11.  God  dealeth  very 
variously  with  his  chosen  in  their  conversion,  as  to  the  accidentals 
and  circumstantials  of  the  work.  Some  he  calleth  not  home  till 
they  have  run  a  long  race  in  the  way  of  rebellion,  in  open  drunk- 
enness, swearing,  worldliness,  and  derision  of  holiness :  these  he 
usually  humblelh  more  deeply,  and  they  can  better  observe  the 
several  steps  of  the  Spirit  in  the  work ;  (and  yet  not  always  nei- 
ther.)    Others  he  so  restraineth  in  their  yowth,  that   though  they 


4l!2  DIRECTIONS    FOR    t.ETTlNG    AND    KEEPING 

have  not  saving  grace,  yet  they  are  not  guilty  of  any  gross  sins,  but 
have  a  Uking  to  the  people  and  ways  of  God  ;  and  yet  he  doth  not 
savingly  convert  theai  till  long  after.  It  is  much  harder  for  these 
to  discern  the  time  or  manner  of  their  conversion  ;  yet  usually  some 
conjectures  they  may  make  ;  and  usually  their  humiliation  is  not 
so  deep.  Others,  as  is  said,  have  the  saving  workings  of  the 
Spirit  in  their  very  childhood,  and  these  can  least  of  all  discern 
the  certain  time  or  order.  The  ordinary  way  of  God's  dealing 
with  those  that  are  children  of  godly  parents,  and  have  good  edu- 
cation, is  by  giving  them  some  liking  of  godly  persons  and  ways, 
some  conscience  of  sin,  some  repentance  and  recourse  by  prayer  to 
God  in  Christ  for  mercy  ;  yet  youthful  lusts  and  folly,  and  ill  com- 
pany, do  usually  much  stifle  it.  till  at  last,  by  some  affliction,  or 
sermon,  or  book,  or  good  company,  God  setteth  home  the  work,  and 
maketh  them  more  resolute  and  victorious  Christians.  These  per- 
sons now  can  remember  that  they  had  convictions  and  stirring  con- 
sciences when  they  were  young,  and  the  other  fore-mentioned  works  ; 
perhaps  they  can  remember  some  more  notable  rousings  and  awak- 
enings long  after,  and  perhaps  they  have  had  many  such  fits  and 
steps,  and  the  work  hath  stood  at  this  pass  for  a  long  time,  even 
many  years  together.  But  at  which  of  all  these  changes  it  was 
that  the  soul  began  to  be  savingly  sincere,  1  think  is  next  to  an 
impossibility  to  discern.  According  to  that  experience  which  1 
have  had  of  the  state  of  Christians,  I  am  forced  to  judge  the  most 
of  the  children  of  the  godly  that  ever  are  renewed,  are  renewed  in 
their  childhood,  or  much  towards  it  then  done,  and  that  among  for- 
ty Christians  there  is  not  one  that  can  certainly  name  the  month  in 
which  his  soul  first  began  to  be  sincere  ;  and  among  a  thousand 
Christians,  I  think  not  one  can  name  the  hour.  The  sermon  which 
awakened  them  they  may  name,  but  not  the  hour  when  they  first 
arrived  at  a  saving  sincerhy. 

My  advice,  therefore,  to  all  Christians,  is  this:  Find  Christ  by 
his  Spirit  dwelling  in  your  hearts,  and  then  never  trouble  yourselves 
though  you  know  not  the  time  or  manner  of  his  entrance.  Do  you 
value  Christ  above  the  world,  and  resolve  to  choose  him  before  the 
world,  and  perform  these  resolutions  ?  Then  need  you  not  doubt 
but  the  Spirit  of  Jesus  is  victorious  in  you. 

Doubt  2.  'But  I  ha\-e  oft  read  and  heard,  that  a  man  cannot 
come  to  Christ  till  he  feel  the  heavy  burden  of  sin.  It  is  the 
weary  and  heavy-laden  that  Christ  calleth  to  him.  He  bindeth  up 
only  the  broken-hearted  ;  he  is  a  Physician  only  to  those  that  feel 
themselves  sick  ;  he  brings  men  to  heaven  by  the  gates  of  hell. 
They  must  be  able  to  say,  I  am  in  a  lost  condition,  and  in  a  state 
of  damnation,  and  if  I  should  die  this  hour,  I  must  perish  forever, 
before  Christ  will  deliver  them.     God  will  not  throw  away  the  blood 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  413 

of  his  Son  on  those  that  feel  not  their  absolute  necessity  of  it,  and 
that  they  are  undone  \vithout  it.  But  it  was  never  thus  with  me  to 
this  day,' 

Answ.  1.  You  must  distinguish  carefully  between  repentance  as 
it  is  in  the  mind  and  will,  and  as  it  shows  itself  in  the  passion  of 
sorrow.  All  that  have  saving  interest  in  Christ,  have  their  j^dg'- 
ments  and  wills  so  far  changed,  that  they  know  that  they  are  sin- 
ners, and  that  there  is  no  way  to  the  obtaining  of  pardon  and  salva- 
tion but  by  Christ,  and  the  free  mercy  of  God  in  him  ;  and  there- 
upon they  are  convinced  that  if  they  remain  without  the  grace  of 
Christ,  they  are  undone  forever.  Whereupon  they,  understanding 
that  Christ  and  mercy  is  offered  to  them  in  the  gospel,  do  heartily 
and  thankfully  accept  the  offer,  and  would  not  be  without  Christ, 
or  change  their  hopes  of  his  grace,  for  all  the  world,  and  do  resolve 
to  wait  upon  him  for  the  further  discovery  of  his  mercy,  and  the 
workings  of  his  Spirit,  in  a  constant  and  conscionable  use  of  his 
means,  and  to  be  ruled  by  him,  to  their  power.  .  Is  it  not  thus 
with  you  ?  If  it  be,  here  is  the  life  and  substance  of  I'epentance, 
which  consisteth  in  this  change  of  the  mind  and  heart,  and  you 
have  no  cause  to  doubt  of  the  truth  of  it,  for  want  of  more  deep 
and  passionate  humiliation.  2.  I  have  told  you  before,  how  uncer- 
tain and  inconstant  the  passionate  effects  of  grace  are,  and  how  un- 
fit to  judge  by,  and  given  you  several  reasons  of  it.  Yet  I  doubt 
not  but  some  work  upon  the  affections  there  is,  as  well  as  on  the 
will  and  understanding;  but  with  so  great  diversity  of  manner  and 
degrees,  that  it  is  not  safe  judging  by  it  only  or  chiefly.  Is  there 
no  degree  of  sorrow  or  trouble  that  hath  touched  your  heart  for 
your  sin  or  misery  ?  If  your  affections  were  no  whit  stirred,  you 
would  hardly  be  moved  to  action,  to  use  means,  or  avoid  iniquity, 
much  less  would  you  so  oft  complain  as  you  do.  3.  If  God  prevent- 
ed those  heinous  sins  in  the  time  of  your  unregeneracy,  which  those 
usually  are  guilty  of  who  are  called  to  so  deep  a  degree  of  sorrow, 
you  should  rather  be  tliankful  that  your  wound  was  not  deeper,  than 
troubled  that  the  cure  cost  you  no  dearer.  Look  well  whether  the 
cure  be  wrought  in  the  change  of  your  heart  and  life  from  the 
world  to  God  by  Christ,  and  then  you  need  not  be  troubled  that 
it  was  wrought  so  easily.  4.  Were  you  not  acquainted  with  the 
evil  of  sin,  and  danger  and  misery  of  sinners,  in  your  very  childhood, 
and  also  of  the  necessity  of  a  Savior,  and  that  Christ  died  to  save 
all  sinners,  that  will  believe  and  repent  ?  And  hath  not  this  fasten- 
ed on  your  heart,  and  been  working  in  you  by  degrees  ever  since  ? 
If  it  be  so,  then  you  cannot  expect  tliat  you  should  have  such  deep 
terrors  as  those  that  never  hear  of  sin  and  Christ  till  the  news  come 
upon  them  suddenly  in  the  ripeness  of  their  sin.  There  is  a  great 
deal  of  difference  betwixt  the  conversion  of  a  Jew,  or  any  other  in- 


414  DIRECTIONS    rOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

fidel,  who  is  brought  on  the  sudden  to  know  the  doctrine  of  sin, 
misery,  and  salv-ation  by  Christ,  and  the  conversion  of  a  professor 
of  the  Christian  rehgion,  Avho  luith  known  this  doctrine  in  some  sort 
from  his  childhood,  and  who  hath  a  sound  rehgion,  though  he  be 
not  sound  in  his  rehgion,  and  so  needs  not  a  conversion  to  a  sound 
faithf  but  only  a  soundness  in  the  faith.  The  suddenness  of  the 
news  must  needs  make  those  violent  commotions  and  changes  in 
the  one,  which  cannot  ordinarily  be  expected  in  the  other,  who  is 
acquainted  so  early  with  the  truth,  and  by  such  degrees.  5.  But 
suppose  you  heard  nothing  of  sin  and  misery,  and  a  Redeemer,  in 
your  childhood,  or  at  least  understood  it  not,  (which  yet  is  unlikely,) 
yet  let  me  ask  you  this :  Did  not  that  preacher,  or  that  book,  or 
whatever  other  means  God  used  for  your  conversion,  reveal  to  you 
misery  and  meicy  both  together  ?  Did  not  you  hear  and  believe 
that  Christ  died  for  sin,  as  soon  as  you  understood  your  sin  and 
misery  ?  Sure  I  am  that  the  Scripture  reveals  both  together ;  and 
so  doth  every  sound  preacher,  and  every  sound  writer,  (notwith- 
standing that  the  slanderous  Anlinomians  do  shamefully  proclaim 
that  we  preach  nut  Christ,  but  the  law.)  This  being  so,  you  must 
easily  apprehend  that  it  must  needs  abate  very  much  of  the  terror, 
which  would  else  have  been  unavoidable.  If  you  had  read  or  heard 
that  you  were  a  sinner,  and  the  child  of  hell,  and  of  God's  wrath, 
and  that  there  was  no  remedy,  (which  is  such  a  preaching  of  the 
law  as  we  must  not  use  to  any  in  the  world,  nor  any,  since  the  first 
promise  to  Adam,  must  receive,)  yea,  or  if  you  had  heard  nothing 
of  a  Savior  for  a  year,  or  a  day,,  or  an  hour  after  you  had  heard 
that  you  were  an  heir  of  hell,  and  so  the  remedy  had  been  but 
concealed  from  you,  though  not  denied,  (which  ordinarily  must  not 
be  done,)  then  you  might  jn  all  likelihood  have  found  some  more 
terrors  of  soul  that  hour.  But  when  you  heard  that  your  sin  was 
pardonable,  as  soon  as  you  heard  that  you  were  a  sinner,  and  heard 
that  your  misery  had  a  sufficient  remedy  provided,  if  you  would 
acce])t  it,  or  at  least  that  it  was  not  remediless,  and  this  as  soon  as 
you  heard  of  that  misery,  what  wonder  is  it  if  this  exceedingly 
abate  your  fears  and  troubles  !  Suppose  two  men  go  to  visit  two 
several  neighbors  that  have  the  plague,  and  one  of  them  saith,  '  It 
is  the  plague  that  is  on  you  ;  you  are  but  a  dead  man.'  The  other 
saith  to  the  other  sick  person,  '  It  is  the  plagqe  that  you  have  ;  but 
here  is  our  physician  at  the  next  door,  that  hath  a  receipt  that  will 
cure  it  as  infallibly  and  as  easily  as  if  it  were  but  the  prick  of  a  pin  ; 
he  hath  cured  thousands,  and  never  failed  one  that  took  his  re- 
ceipt ;  but  if  you  will  not  send  to  him,  and  trust  him,  and  take  his  re- 
ceipt, there  is  no  hopes  of  you.'  Tell  me  now  whether  the  first  of 
these  sick  persons  be  not  like  to  be  more  troubled  than  the  other  ? 
And  whether  it  will  not  remove  almost  all  the  fears  and  troubles  of 


SPIRITUAL    PKACE    ANli    COMFORT.  41& 

the  latter,  to  hear  of  a  certain  remedy  as  soon  as  he  heareth  of  the 
disease  ?  Though  some  trouble  he  must  needs  have  to  think  that 
he  hath  a  disease  in  itself  so  desperate  or  loathsome.  Nay,  let  me  tell 
you,  so  the  cure  be  but  well  done,  the  less  terrors  and  despairing 
fear  you  were  put  upon,  the  more  credit  is  it  to  your  physician  and 
his  apothecary.  Clirist  and  the  preacher,  or  instrument,  that  did  the 
work ;  and  therefore  you  should  rather  praise  your  physician,  than 
question  the  cure. 

Doubt  3.  '  But  it  is  common  with  all  the  world  to  consent  to 
the  religion  that  they  are  bred  up  in,  and  somewhat  affected  with 
it,  and  to  make  conscience  of  obeying  the  precepts  of  it.  So  do 
the  Jews  in  theirs ;  the  Mahometans  in  theirs.  And  I  fear  it  is  no 
other  work  on  my  soul  but  the  mere  force  of  education,  that  maketh 
me  religious,  and  tliat  I  had  never  that  great  renewing  work  of  the 
Spirit  upon  my  soul ;  and  so  that  all  my  religion  is  but  mere  opinion, 
or  notions  in  my  brain.' 

Ansiv.  1.  All  the  religions  in  the  world,  besides  the  Christian 
religion,  have  either  much  error  and  wickedness  mixed  with  some 
truth  of  God,  or  they  contain  some  lesser  parcel  of  that  truth  alone, 
(as  the  Jews  ;)  only  the  Christian  religion  hath  that  whole  truth 
which  is  saving.  Now,  so  much  of  God's  truth  as  there  is  in  any 
of  these  religions,  so  much  it  may  work  good  effects  upon  their 
souls ;  as  the  knowledge  of  the  Godhead,  and  that  God  is  holy, 
good,  just,  merciful,  and  that  he  showeth  them  much  undeserved 
mercy  in  his  daily  providences,  &c.  But  mark  these  two  things, 
(1.)  That  all  peisons  of  false  religions  do  more  easily  and  greedily 
embrace  the  false  part  of  their  religion  than  the  true  ;  and  that  tliey 
are  zealous  for,  and  practice  with  all  their  might,  because  their 
natural  corruption,  doth  befriend  it,  and  is  as  combustible  fuel  for 
the  fire  of  hell  to  catch  in  ;  but  that  truth  of  God  which  is  mixed 
with  their  error,  if  it  be  practical^  they  fight  against  it,  and  abhor  it 
while  they  hold  it,  because  it  crosseth  their  lusts,  insomuch  that  it 
is  usually  but  some  few  of  the  more  convinced  and  civil  that  Gocl 
in  providence  maketh  the  main  instrument  of  continuing  those 
truths  of  his  in  that  part  of  the  wicked  world.  For  we  find  that 
even  among  pagans,  the  profaner  and  more  sensual  sort  did  deride 
the  better  sort,  as  our  profane  Christians  do  the  godly  whom  they 
called  Puritans.  (2.)  Note,  That  the  truth  of  God  which  in  these 
false  religions  is  still  acknowledged,  is  so  small  a  part,  and  so  op^ 
})ressed  by  errors,  that  it  is  not  sufiicient  to  their  salvation,  (that  is, 
to  give  them  any  sound  hope,)  nor  is  it  sufficient  to  make  §uch 
clear,  and  deep,  and  powerful  impressions  in  their  minds,  as  may 
make  them  holy  or  truly  heavenly,  or  may  overcome  in  them  the 
interest  of  the  world  and  the  flesh. 

This  being  so,  you  may  see  great  reason  why  a  Turk  or  a  hea- 


416  DIRECTIONS    FUR    UKTTING    AND    KEEPING 

then  may  be  zealous  for  his  rehgion  without  God's  Spirit,  or  any 
true  sanctification,  when  yet  you  cannot  be  so  truly  zealous  for 
yours  without  it.  Indeed  the  speculative  part  of  our  religion,  sep- 
arated from  the  practical,  or  from  the  hard  and  self-denying  part  of 
the  practical,  many  a  wicked  man  may  be  zealous  for;  as  to  main- 
lain  'the  Godhead,  or  that  God  is  merciful,  &,c.  Or  to  maintain 
against  the  Jews  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ ;  or  against  the  Turks, 
that  he  is  the  only  Redeemer  and  teacher  of  the  church  ;  or  against 
the  Papists,  that  all  the  Christians  in  the  world  are  Christ's  church 
as  well  as  the  Romans  ;  and  against  the  Socinians  and  Arians  that 
Christ  is  God,  &ic.  But  this  is  but  a  small  part  of  our  religion  ; 
nor  doth  this,  or  any  heathenish  zeal,  sanctify  the  heart,  or  truly 
mortify  the  flesh  or  overcome  the  world.  They  may  contemn  life, 
and  cast  it  away  for  their  pride  and  vain-glory  ;  but  not  for  the  hopes 
of  a  holy  and  blessed  life  with  God.  This  is  but  the  prevalency 
of  one  corruption  against  another,  or  rather  of  vice  against  nature. 
There  is  a  common  grace  of  God  that  goeth  along  with  common 
truths,  and  according  to  the  measure  of  their  obedience  to  the  truth, 
such  was  the  change  it  wrought ;  which  was  done  by  common 
truths,  and  common  grace  together,  but  not  by  their  false  mixtures 
at  all.  But  God  hath  annexed  his  special  grace  only  to  the  special 
truths  of  the  gospel  or  Christian  religion.  If,  therefore,  God  do,  by 
common  grace,  work  a  great  change  on  a  heathen,  by  the  means 
of  common  truths,  and  do  by  his  special  grace  work  a  greater  and 
special  change  on  you,  by  the  means  of  the  special  truths  of  the 
gospel,  have  you  any  reason  hereupon  to  suspect  your  condition  ? 
Or  should  you  not  rather  both  admire  that  providence  and  common 
grace  which  is  manifested  without  the  church,  and  humbly,  rejoic- 
ingly and  thankfully  embrace  that  special  savins  grace,  which  is 
manifested  to  yourself  above  them  ? 

2.  And  for  that  which  you  speak  of  education,  you  have  as 
much  cause  to  doubt  of  your  conversion,  because  it  was  wrought 
by  public  preaching,  as  because  it  was  wi'ought  by  education.  For, 
1.  Both  are  by  the  gospel ;  for  it  is  the  gospel  that  your  parents 
taught  you,  as  well  as  which  the  preacher  teacheth  you.  2.  I  have 
showed  you,  that  if  parents  djd  not  shamefully  neglect  their  duties, 
the  word  publicly  preached  would  not  be  the  ordinary  instrument 
of  regeneration  to  the  children  of  tme  Christians,  but  would  only 
build  them  up,  and  direct  them  in  the  faith  and  in  obedience. 
The  proof  is  very  plain  :  If  we  should  speak  nothing  of  the  inter- 
est of  our  infants  in  the  covenant  grace,  upon  the  conditional  force 
of  their  parents'  faith,  nor  of  their  baptism  ;  yet,  Deut.  vi.  Ephes. 
vi.  and  oft  in  the  Proverbs,  you  may  find,  that  it  is  God's  strict 
command,  that  parents  should  teach  God's  word  to  their  children, 
and  bring  them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord ;  yea, 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  417 

with  a  prediction  or  half  promise,  that  if  we  '"  train  up  a  child  in  the 
way  he  should  go,  when  he  is  old  he  shall  not  depart  from  it ; " 
Prov.  xxii.  6.  Now,  it  is  certain  that  God  will  usually  bless  that 
which  he  appointeth  to  be  the  usual  means,  if  it  be  rightly  used. 
For  he  hath  appointed  no  means  to  be  used  in  vain. 

I  hope,  therefore,  by  this  time,  you  see,  that,  instead  of  being 
troubled,  that  the  work  was  done  on  your  soul  by  the  means  of 
education :  i.  You  had  more  reason  to  be  troubled  if  it  had  been 
done  first  by  the  public  preaching  of  the  word  ;  for  it  should  grieve 
you  at  the  heart  to  think,  1.  Tliat  you  lived  in  an  unregenerate 
state  so  long,  and  spent  your  childhood  in  vanity  and  sin,  and 
thought  not  seriously  on  God  and  your  salvation,  for  so  many  years 
together.  2.  And  that  you  or  your  parent's  sin  should  provoke  God 
so  long  to  withdraw  his  Spirit  and  deny  you  his  grace,  ii.  You 
may  see  also  what  inconceivable  thanks  you  owe  to  God,  who 
made  education  the  means  of  your  early  change  :  1 .  In  that  he 
prevented  so  many  and  grievous  sins  which  else  you  would  have 
been  guilty  of.  (And  you  may  read  in  David's  and  Manasseh's 
case,  that  even  pardoned  sins  have  ofttimes  very  sad  effects  left 
behind  them.)  2.  That  you  have  enjoyed  God's  Spirit  and  love 
so  much  longer  than  else  you  would  have  done.  3.  That  iniquity 
took  not  so  deep  rooting  in  you,  as  by  custom  it  would  have  done. 
4.  That  the  devil  cannot  glory  of  that  service  which  you  did  him, 
as  else  lie  might ;  and  that  the  church  is  not  so  much  the  worse,  as 
else  it  might  have  been  by  the  mischief  you  would  have  done ;  and 
that  you  need  not  all  your  days  look  back  with  so  much  trouble,  as 
else  you  must,  upon  the  effects  of  your  ill  doing  ;  nor  with  Paul,  to 
think  of  one  Stephen  ;  yea,  many  saints,  in  whose  blood  you  first 
embrued  your  hands  ;  and  to  cry  out,  '  I  was  bom  out  of  due  time. 
I  am  not  worthy  to  be  called  a  Christian,  because  1  persecuted  the 
church  of  God.  I  was  mad  against  them,  and  persecuted  them 
into  several  cities.  I  was  sometimes  foolish,  disobedient,  serving 
divers  lusts  and  pleasures.'  Would  you  rather  that  God  had  per- 
mitted you  to  do  this  ?  5.  And  methinks  it  should  be  a  comfort  to 
you,  that  your  own  father  was  the  instrument  of  your  spiritual 
good  ;  that  he  that  was  the  means  of  your  generation,  was  the 
means  of  your  regeneration,  both  because  it  will  be  a  double  com- 
fort to  your  parents,  and  because  it  will  endear  and  engage  you  to 
them  in  a  double  bond.  For  my  part,  1  know  not  what  God  did  se- 
cretly in  my  heart,  before  1  had  the  use  of  memory  and  reason  ; 
but  the  first  good  that  ever  I  felt  on  my  soul,  was  from  the  coun- 
sels and  teachings  of  my  own  father  in  my  childhood ;  and  I  take 
it  now  for  a  double  mercy,  being  more  glad  that  he  was  the  instru- 
ment to  do  me  good,  than  if  it  had  been  the  best  preacher  in  the 
world.  How  foul  an  oversight  is  it,  then,  that  you  should  be  trou- 
voL.  I.  53 


418  BIRECXrONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

bled  at  one  of  the  choicest  mercies  oi  your  life,  yea,  that  your  life 
was  capable  of,  and  for  nhich  you  owe  to  God  such  abundant 
thanks  1 

Doubt  4.  '  But  my  great  fear  is,  that  the  life  of  grace  is  not  yet 
within  me,  because  I  am  so  void  of  spiritual  sense  and  feeling. 
Methinks  I  am  in  spiritual  things  as  dead  as  a  block,  and  my  heart 
as  hard  as  a  rock,  or  the  nether  millstone.  Grace  is  a  principle  of 
new  life,  and  life  is  a  principle  of  sense  and  motion ;  it  causeth 
vigor  and  activity.  Such  should  I  have  in  duty,  if  I  had  the  life 
of  grace.  But  I  feel  the  great  curse  of  a  dead  heart  within  me. 
God  seems  to  withdraw  his  quickening  Spirit,  and  to  forsake  me  ; 
and  to  give  me  up  to  the  hardness  of  my  heart.  If  I  were  in  covenant 
with  him,  I  should  feel  the  blessing  of  the  covenant  within  me ; 
the  hard  heart  vi'ould  be  taken  out  of  my  body,  and  a  heart  of  flesh, 
a  soft  heart,  would  be  given  to  me.  But  I  cannot  weep  one  tear 
for  my  sins.  I  can  think  on  the  blood  of  Christ,  and  of  my  bloody 
sins  that  caused  it,  and  all  will  not  wring  one  tear  from  mine  eyes ; 
and,  therefore,  I  fear  that  my  soul  is  yet  destitute  of  the  life  of 
grace.' 

Answ.  1.  A  soft  heart  consisteth  in  two  things.  (1.)  That  the 
will  be  persuadable,  tractable,  and  yielding  to  God,  and  pliable  to 
his  will.  (2.)  That  the  affections  or  passions  be  somewhat  mov- 
ed herewithal  about  spiritual  things.  Some  degree  more  or  less  of 
the  latter  doth  concur  with  the  former ;  but  I  have  told  you,  that  it 
is  the  former,  wherein  the  heart  and  life  of  grace  doth  lie,  and  that 
the  latter  is  very  various,  and  uncertain  to  try  by.  Many  do  much 
overlook  the  Scripture  meaning  of  the  word  hard-heartedness. 
Mark  it  up  and  down  concerning  the  Israelites,  who  are  so  oft 
charged  by  Moses,  David,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah,  and  other  prophets, 
to  be  hard-hearted,  or  to  harden  their  hearts,  or  stiffen  their  necks  ; 
and  you  will  find  that  the  most  usual  meaning  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  this.  They  were  an  intractable,  disobedient,  obstinate  people;  or, 
as  the  Greek  word  in  the  New  Testament  signifieth,  which  we  often 
translate  unbelieving,  they  were  an  unpersuadable  people ;  no  say- 
ing would  serve  them.  They  set  light  by  God's  commands,  prom- 
ises, and  severest  threatenings,  and  judgments  themselves  ;  nothing 
would  move  them  to  forsake  their  sins,  and  obey  the  voice  of  God. 
You  shall  find  that  hardness  of  heart  is  seldom  put  for  want  of  tears, 
or  a  melting,  w^eeping  disposition  ;  and  never  at  all  for  the  want  of 
such  tears,  where  the  will  Ts  tractable  and  obedient.  I  pray  you 
examine  yourself  then  according  to  this  rule.  God  ofFereth  his 
love  in  Christ,  and  Christ  with  all  his  benefits,  to  you.  Are  you 
willing  to  accept  them  ?  He  commandeth  you  to  worship  him, 
and  use  his  ordinances,  and  love  his  people,  and  others,  and  to  for- 
sake your  known  iniquities,  so  far  that  they  may  not  have  do- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    ANU    lOiMFORT.  419 

minion  over  you.  Are  you  willing  to  do  tliis  ?  He  connnandeth  you 
to  take  him  for  your  God,  and  Christ  for  your  Redeemer,  and  stick 
to  him  for  better  and  worse,  and  never  forsake  him.  Are  you 
willing  to  do  this  ?  If  you  have  a  stiff,  rebellious  heart,  and  will 
not  accept  of  Christ  and  grace,  and  will  rather  let  go  Christ  than 
the  world,  and  will  not  be  persuaded  from  your  known  iniquities, 
but  are  loath  to  leave  them,  and  love  not  to  be  reformed,  and  will 
not  set  upon  those  duties  as  you  are  able,  which  God  requireth, 
and  you  are  fully  convinced  of,  then  are  you  hard-hearted  in  the 
Scripture  sense.  But  if  you  are  glad  to  have  Christ  with  all  your 
heart,  upon  the  terms  that  he  is  offered  to  you  in  the  gospel,  and 
you  do  walk  daily  in  the  way  of  duty  as  you  can,  and  are  willing 
to  pray,  and  willing  to  hear  and  wait  on  God  in  his  ordinances,  and 
willing  to  have  all  God's  graces  formed  within  you,  and  willing  to 
let  go  your  most  profitable  and  sweetest  sins,  and  it  is  your  daily 
desires,  O  that  I  could  seek  God,  and  do  his  will  more  faithfully, 
zealously,  and  pleasingly  than  I  do !  O  that  I  were  rid  of  this 
body  of  sin  ;  these  carnal,  corrupt,  and  worldly  inclinations  !  And 
that  I  were  as  holy  as  the  best  of  God's  saints  on  earth  !  And  if 
when  it  comes  to  practice,  whether  you  should  obey  or  no,  though 
some  unwillingness  to  duty,  and  willingness  to  sin,  be  in  you,  you 
are  offended  at  it,  and  the  greater  bent  of  your  will  is  for  God,  and 
it  is  but  the  lesser  which  is  towards  sin,  and  therefore  the  world 
and  flesh  do  not  lead  you  captive,  and  you  live  not  willfully  in 
avoidable  sins,  nor  at  all  in  gross  sin  ;  1  say,  if  it  be  thus  with  you, 
then  you  have  the  blessing  of  a  soft  heart,  a  heart  of  flesh,  a  new 
heart ;  for  it  is  a  willing,  obedient,  tractable  heart,  opposed  to  ob- 
stinacy in  sin,  which  Scripture  calleth  a  soft  heart.  And  then  for 
the  passionate  part,  which  consisteth  in  lively  feelings  of  sin,  misery, 
mercy,  &c.,  and  in  weeping  for  sin,  I  shall  say  but  this :  1.  Many 
an  unsanctified  person  hath  very  much  of  it,  which  yet  are  desper- 
ately hard-hearted  sinners.  It  dependeth  far  more  on  the  temper 
of  the  body,  than  of  the  grace  in  the  soul.  Women  usually  can 
weep  easily,  (and  yet  not  all,)  and  children,  and  old  men.  Some 
complexions  incline  to  it,  and  others  not.  Many  can  weep  at  a 
passion-sermon,  or  any  moving  duty,  and  yet  will  not  be  per- 
suaded to  obedience  ;  these  are  hard-hearted  sinners,  for  all  their 
tears.  2.  Many  a  tender,  godly  person  cannot  weep  for  sin,  part- 
ly through  the  temper  of  their  minds,  which  are  more  judicious  and 
solid,  and  less  passionate  ;  but  mostly  from  the  temper  of  their 
bodies,  which  dispose  them  not  that  way.  3.  Deepest  sorrows 
seldom  cause  tears,  but  deep  thoughts  of  heart ;  as  greatest  joys 
seldom  cause  laughter,  but  inward  pleasure.  I  will  tell  you  how 
you  shall  know  whose  heart  is  truly  sorrowful  for  sin,  and  tender; 
he  that  would  be  at  the  greatest  cost  or  pains  to  be  rid  of  sin,  or 


420  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

that  he  had  not  sinned.  You  cannot  weep  for  sin,  but  you  would 
give  all  that  you  have  to  be  rid  of  sin  ;  you  could  wish,  when  you 
dishonored  God  by  sin,  that  you  had  spent  that  time  in  suffering 
rather ;  and  if  it  were  to  do  again  on  the  same  terms  and  induce- 
ments, you  would  not  do  it ;  nay,  you  would  live  a  beggar  con- 
tentedly, so  you  might  fully  please  God,  and  never  sin  against 
him ;  and  are  content  to  pinch  your  flesh,  and  deny  your  worldly 
interest  for  the  time  to  come,  rather  than  willfully  disobey.  This 
is  a  truly  tender  heart.  On  the  other  side,  another  can  weep  to 
think  of  his  sin;  and  yet  if  you  should  ask  him,  What  wouldst  thou 
give,  or  what  wouldst  thou  suffer,  so  thou  hadst  not  sinned,  or  that 
thou  mightest  sin  no  more  ?  Alas  !  very  little.  For  the  next  time 
that  he  is  put  to  it,  he  will  rather  venture  on  the  sin,  than  venture 
on  a  little  loss,  or  danger,  or  disgrace  in  the  world,  or  deny  his 
craving  flesh  its  pleasures.  This  is  a  hard-hearted  sinner.  The 
more  you  would  part  with  to  be  rid  of  sin,  or  the  greatest  cost  you 
would  be  at  for  that  end,  the  more  repentance  have  you,  and  tnje 
tenderness  of  heart.  Alas!  if  men  should  go  to  heaven  according 
to  their  weeping,  what  abundance  of  children  and  women  would 
be  there  for  one  man !  I  will  speak  tady  my  own  case.  This 
doubt  lay  heavy  many  a  year  on  my  own  soul,  when  yet  I  would 
have  given  all  that  I  had  to  be  rid  of  sin,  but  I  could  not  weep  a 
tear  for  it.  Nor  could  I  weep  for  the  death  of  my  dearest  friends, 
when  yet  I  would  have  bought  their  lives,  had  it  been  God's  will, 
at  a  dearer  rate  than  many  that  could  weep  for  them  ten  times  as 
much.  And  now,  since  my  nature  is  decayed,  and  my  t)ody  lan- 
guished in  consuming  weakness,  and  my  head  more  moistened,  and 
my  veins  filled  with  phlegmatic,  watery  blood,  now  I  can  weep ; 
and  I  find  never  the  more  tender-heartedness  in  myself  than  before. 
And  yet  to  this  day  so  much  remains  of  my  old  disposition,  that  I 
could  wring  all  the  money  out  of  my  purse,  easier  than  one  tear 
out  of  my  eyes  to  save  a  friend,  or  rescue  them  from  evil ;  when 
I  see  divers  that  can  weep  for  a  dead  friend,  that  would  have  been 
at  no  great  cost  to  save  their  lives.  5.  Besides,  as  Dr.  Sibbs  saith, 
"There  is  oft  sorrow  for  sin  in  us,  when  it  doth  not  appear;  it 
wanteth  but  some  quickening  word  to  set  it  a  foot."  It  is  the  na- 
ture of  grief  to  break  out  into  tears  most,  when  sorrow  hath  some 
vent,  either  when  we  use  some  expostulating,  aggravating  terms 
with  ourselves,  or  when  we  are  opening  our  hearts  and  case  to  a 
friend  ;  then  sorrow  will  often  show  itself  that  did  not  before.  6, 
Yet  do  I  not  deny,  but  that  our  want  of  tears,  and  tender  affections, 
and  heart-meltings,  are  our  sins.  For  my  part,  I  can  see  exceed- 
ing cause  to  bewail  it  greatly  in  myself,  that  my  soul  is  not  raised 
to  a  higher  pitch  of  tender  sensibility  of  all  spiritual  things  than  it 
'us.     I  doubt  not  but  it  should  be  the  matter  of  our  daily  confession 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  421 

and  complaint  to  God,  that  our  heaits  are  so  dull  and  little  affected 
with  his  sacred  truths,  and  our  own  sins.  But  this  is  the  scope  of 
all  my  speech,  Why  do  not  you  distinguish  between  matter  of  sor- 
row and  matter  of  doubting  ?  No  question  but  you  should  lament 
your  dullness  and  stupidity,  and  use  all  God's  means  for  the  quick- 
ening of  your  affections,  and  to  get  the  most  lively  frame  of  soul ; 
but  must  it  cause  you  to  doubt  of  your  sincerity,  when  you  cannot 
obtain  this  ?  Then  will  you  never  have  a  settled  peace  or  assur- 
ance for  many  days  together,  for  aught  I  know.  I  would  ask  you 
but  this,  whether  you  are  willing  or  unwilling  of  all  that  hardness, 
insensibleness,  and  dullness  which  you  complain  of?  If  you  are 
willing  of  it,  what  makes  you  complain  of  it  ?  If  you  are  unwill- 
ing, it  seems  your  will  is  so  far  sound ;  and  it  is  the  will  that  is  the 
seat  of  the  life  of  grace,  which  we  must  try  by.  And  was  not 
Paul's  case  the  same  with  yours,  when  he  saith,  "  The  good  which 
I  would  do,  I  do  not ;  and  when  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present 
with  me?"  Rom.  vii.  19.  I  know  Paul  speaks  not  of  gross  sins, 
but  ordinary  infirmities.  And  I  have  told  you  before,  that  the 
liveliness  and  sensibility  of  the  passions  or  affections  is  a  thing  that 
the  will,  though  sanctified,  cannot  fully  command  or  excite  at  its 
pleasure.  A  sanctified  man  cannot  grieve  or  weep  for  sin  when 
he  will,  or  so  much  as  he  will.  He  cannot  love,  joy,  be  zealous, 
he,  when  he  will.  He  may  be  truly  willing,  and  not  able.  And 
is  not  this  your  case  ?  And  doth  not  Paul  make  it  the  case  of 
all  Christians?  "The  flesh  lusteth  against  the  Spirit,  and  the 
Spirit  against  the  flesh,  and  these  are  contrary  one  to  the  other,  so 
that  we  cannot  do  the  things  that  we  would  ;  "  Gal.  v.  17.  Take 
my  counsel  therefore  in  this,  if  you  love  not  self-deceiving  and 
disquietness.  Search  whether  you  can  say  unfeignedly,  '  I  would 
with  all  my  heart  have  Christ  and  his  quickening  and  sanctifying 
Spirit,  and  his  softening  grace,  to  bring  my  hard  heart  to  tender- 
ness, and  my  dull  and  blockish  soul  to  a  lively  frame  !  O  that  I 
could  attain  it ! '  And  if  you  can  truly  say  thus,  bless  God  that 
hath  given  you  saving  sincerity  ;  and  then  let  all  the  rest  of  your 
dullness,  and  deadness,  and  hard-heartedness,  be  matter  of  daily 
sorrow  to  you,  and  spare  not,  so  it  be  in  moderation,  but  let  it  be 
no  matter  of  doubting.  Confess  it,  complain  of  it,  pray  against  it, 
and  strive  against  it;  but  do  not  deny  God's  grace  in  you  for  it. 

And  here  let  me  mind  you  of  one  thing,  That  it  is  a  very  ill 
distemper  of  spirit,  when  a  man  can  mourn  for  nothing  but  what 
causeth  him  to  doubt  of  his  salvation.  It  is  a  great  conniption,  if 
when  your  doubts  are  resolved,  and  you  are  persuaded  of  your  sal- 
vation, if  then  you  cease  all  your  humiliation  and  sorrow  for  your 
sin ;  for  you  must  sorrow  that  you  have  in  you  such  a  body  of 
death,  and  that  which  is  so  displeasing  to  God,  and  are  able  to 


422  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND  KEEPING  f 

please  and  enjoy  him  no  more,  though  you  W6re  never  so  certain 
of  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  of  salvation. 

7.  Lastly,  Let  me  ask  you  one  question  more ;  What  is  the 
reason  that  you  are  so  troubled  for  want  of  tears  for  your  sin  ? 
Take  heed  lest  there  lie  some  corruption  in  this  trouble  that  you 
do  not  discern.  If  it  be  only  because  your  deadness  and  dullness 
is  your  sin,  and  you  would  fain  have  your  soul  in  that  frame,  in 
which  it  may  be  fittest  to  please  God  and  enjoy  him ;  then  I  com- 
mend and  encourage  you  in  your  trouble.  But  take  heed  lest  you 
should  have  any  conceit  of  meritoriousness  in  your  tears ;  for  that 
would  be  a  more  dangerous  sin  than  your  want  of  tears.  And  if  it 
be  for  want  of  a  sign  of  grace,  and  because  a  dry  eye  is  a  sign  of 
an  unregenerate  soul,  I  have  told  you,  it  is  not  so,  except  where 
it  only  seconds  an  impenitent  heart,  and  comes  from  or  accompa- 
nieth  an  unrenewed  will,  and  a  prevailing  unwillingness  to  turn  to 
God  by  Christ.  Show  me,  if  you  can,  where  the  Scripture  saith, 
He  that  cannot  weep  for  sin,  shall  not  be  saved,  or  hath  no  true 
grace.  Is  not  your  complaint  in  this  the  very  same  that  the  most 
eminent  Christians  have  used  in  all  times  ?  That  most  blessed, 
holy  man,  Mr.  Bradford,  who  sacrificed  his  life  in  the  flames  against 
Romish  abominations,  was  wont  to  subscribe  his  spiritual  letters 
(indited  by  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  of  God)  thus :  '  The  most 
miserable,  hard-hearted  sinner,  John  Bradford.' 

Doubt  5.  'O,  but  I  am  not  willing  to  good,  and  therefore  I 
fear  that  even  my  will  itself  is  yet  unchanged  :  I  have  such  a  back- 
wardness and  undisposedness  to  duty,  especially  secret  prayer, 
meditation,  and  self-examination,  and  reproving  and  exhorting  sin- 
ners, that  I  am  fain  to  force  myself  to  it  against  my  will.  It  is  no 
delight  that  I  find  in  these  duties  that  brings  me  to  them,  but  only 
I  use  violence  with  myself,  and  am  fain  to  pull  myself  down  on  my 
knees,  because  I  know  it  is  a  duty,  and  I  cannot  be  saved  without 
it ;  but  I  am  no  sooner  on  my  knees,  but  I  have  a  motion  to  rise, 
or  be  short,  and  am  weary  of  it,  and  find  no  great  miss  of  duty 
when  I  do  omit  it.' 

Answ.  1.  This  shows  that  your  soul  is  sick,  when  your  meat 
goes  so  much  against  your  stomach  that  you  are  fain  to  force  it 
dov/n :  and  sickness  may  well  cause  you  to  complain  to  God  and 
man.  But  what  is  this  to  deadness  !  The  dead  cannot  force  down 
their  meat,  nor  digest  it  at  all.  It  seems  by  this,  that  you  are  sanc- 
tified but  in  a  low  degree,  and  your  corruption  remains  in  some 
strength  ;  and  let  that  be  your  sorrow,  and  the  overcoming  of  it  be 
your  greatest  care  and  business :  but  should  you  therefore  say  that 
you  are  unsanctified  ?  It  seems  that  you  have  still  the  flesh  lusting 
against  the  Spirit,  that  you  cannot  do  the  good  you  would.  When 
you  would  pray  with  delight  and  unweariedness,  the  flesh  draws 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE   AND    COMFOET.       '  423 

back,  and  the  devil  is  hindering  you.  And  is  it  not  so  in  too  great 
a  measure  with  the  best  on  earth  ?  Remember  what  Christ  said 
to  his  own  apostles.  When  they  should  have  done  him  one  of 
their  last  services,  as  to  the  attendance  of  his  body  on  earth,  and 
should  have  comforted  him  in  his  agony,  tbey  are  all  asleep.  Again 
and  again  he  comes  to  them,  and  findeth  them  asleep :  Christ  is 
praying  and  sweating  blood,  and  they  are  still  sleeping,  though  he 
warned  them  to  watch  and  pray,  that  they  enter  not  into  tempta- 
tion. But  what  doth  God  say  to  them  for  it?  Why,  he  useth 
this  same  distinction  between  humiliation  for  sin,  and  doubting  of 
sincerity  and  salvation,  and  he  helps  them  to  the  former,  and  helps 
them  against  the  latter.  "  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  hour? " 
saith  he.  There  he  convinceth  them  of  the  sin,  that  they  may  be 
humbled  for  it.  "  The  spirit  indeed  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is 
weak,"  saith  he.  There  he  utterly  resisteth  their  doubtings,  or 
preventeth  them ;  showing  them  wherein  sincere  grace  consisteth, 
even  in  the  spirit's  willingness  ;  and  telling  them  that  they  had  that 
grace  ;  and  then  telling  them  whence  came  their  sin,  even  from  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh. 

2.  I  have  showed  you  that  as  every  man's  will  is  but  partly 
sanctified,  (as  to  the  degree  of  holiness,)  and  so  far  as  it  is  imper- 
fect, it  will  be  unwilling  ;  so  that  there  is  something  in  the  duties 
of  secret  prayer,  meditation  and  reproof,  which  makes  most  men 
more  backward  to  them  than  other  duties.  The  last  doth  so  cross 
our  fleshly  interests,  and  the  two  former  are  so  spiritual,  and  re- 
quire so  pure  and  spiritual  a  soul,  and  set  a  man  so  immediately 
before  the  living  God,  as  if  we  were  speaking  to  him  face  to  face, 
and  have  nothing  of  external  pomp  to  draw  us,  that  it  is  no  won- 
der, if  while  there  is  flesh  within  us,  we  are  backward  to  them  ! 
Especially  while  we  are  so  unacquainted  wnth  God,  and  while 
strangeness  and  consciousness  of  sin  doth  make  us  draw  back:  be- 
sides that,  the  devil  will  more  busily  hinder  us  here  than  any  where^ 

3.  The  question,  therefore,  is  not,  whether  you  have  an  unwill- 
ingness and  backwardness  to  good ;  for  so  have  all.  Nor  yet, 
whether  you  have  any  cold,  ineffectual  wishes ;  for  so  have  the 
ungodly.  But,  whether  your  willingness  be  not  more  than  your 
unwillingness;  and  in  that,  1.  It  must  not  be  in  every  single  act 
of  duty  ;  for  a  godly  man  may  be  actually  more  unwilling  to  a  duty 
at  this  particular  time,  than  willing,  and  thereupon  may  omit  it ; 
but  it  must  be  about  your  habitual  willingness,  manifested  in  ordi- 
nary, actual  willingness.  2.  You  must  not  exclude  any  of  those 
motives  which  God  hath  given  you  to  make  you  willing  to  duty. 
He  hath  commanded  it,  and  his  authority  should  move  you.  He 
hath  threatened  you,  and  therefore  fear  should  move  you  ;  or  else 
he  would  never  have  threatened.     He  hath  made  promises  of  re- 


424  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

ward,  and  therefore  the  hope  of  that  should  move  you.  And 
therefore  you  may  perceive  here,  what  a  dangerous  mistake  it  is  to 
think  that  we  have  no  grace,  except  our  wilhngness  to  duty  be 
without  God's  motives,  from  a  mere  love  to  the  duty  itself,  or  to  its 
effect.  Nay,  it  is  a  dangerous  Antinomian  mistake  to  imagine, 
that  it  is  our  duty  to  be  willing  to  good,  without  these  motives  of 
God;  I  say,  to  take  it  so  much  as  for  our  duty,  to  exclude  God's 
motives,  though  we  should  not  judge  of  our  grace  by  it.  For  it  is 
but  an  accusation  of  Christ,  (and  his  law,)  who  hath  ordained  these 
motives  of  punishment  and  reward  to  be  his  instruments  to  move 
the  soul  to  duty.  Let  me,  therefore,  put  the  right  question  to  you, 
whether  all  God's  motives  laid  together  and  considered,  the  ordi- 
nary prevailing  part  of  your  will  be  not  rather  for  duty  than  against 
it  ?  This  you  will  know  by  your  practice.  For,  if  the  prevailing 
part  be  against  duty,  you  will  not  do  it ;  if  it  be  for  duty,  you  will 
ordinarily  perform  it,  though  you  cannot  do  it  so  well  as  you  would. 
And  then  you  may  see  that  your  backwardness  and  remaining  un- 
willingness must  still  be  matter  of  humiliation  and  resistance  to  you, 
but  not  matter  of  doubting.  Nay,  thank  God  that  enableth  you 
to  pull  down  yourself  on  your  knees  when  you  are  unwilling;  for 
what  is  that  but  the  prevailing  of  your  willingness  against  your 
unwillingness  ?  Should  your  unwillingness  once  prevail,  you  would 
turn  your  back  upon  the  most  acknowledged  duties. 

Doubt  6.  '  But  1  am  afraid  that  it  is  only  slavish  fear  of  hell, 
and  not  the  love  of  God,  that  causeth  me  to  obey  ;  and  if  it  were 
not  for  this  fear,  I  doubt  whether  I  should  not  quite  give  over  all. 
And  perfect  love  casteth  out  fear.' 

Answ.  I  have  answered  this  already.  Love  will  not  be  perfect 
in  this  life.  In  the  life  to  come,  it  will  cast  out  all  fear  of  damna- 
tion, and  all  fear  that  drives  the  soul  from  God,  and  all  fear  of 
men,  (which  is  meant  in  Rev.  xxi.  8.,  where  the  fearful  and  un- 
believers are  condemned  ;  that  is,  those  that  fear  men  more  than 
God.)  And  that,  1  John  iv.  17, 18.,  speaketh  of  a  tormenting  fear, 
which  is  it  that  I  am  persuading  you  from,  and  consisteth  in  terrors 
of  soul,  upon  an  apprehension  that  God  will  condemn  you.  But 
it  speaketh  not  of  a  filial  feai-,  nor  of  a  fear  lest  we  should  by  for- 
saking God,  or  by  yielding  to  temptation,  lose  the  crown  of  life, 
and  so  perish ;  as  long  as  this  is  not  a  tormenting  fear,  but  a  cau- 
telous,  preserving,  preventing  fear.  Besides,  the  text  plainly  saith, 
"It  is  that  we  may  have  boldness  in  the  day  of  judgment,  that  love 
casteth  out  this  fear;"  and  at  the  day  of  judgment,  love  will  have 
more  fully  overcome  it.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  think  that  filial 
fear  is  only  the  fear  of  temporal  chastisement,  and  that  all  fear  of 
hell  is  slavish.  Even  filial  fear  is  a  fear  of  hell ;  but  with  this  dif- 
ference.    A  son  (if  he  know  himself  to  be  a  son)  hath  such  a  per- 


SPIRITLAI.    PEACE    AND    COMPORT.  4*25 

suasion  of  his  father's  love  to  him,  that  he  knows  he  will  not  cast 
him  off,  except  he  should  be  so  vile  as  to  renounce  his  father ; 
which  he  is  moderately  fearful  or  careful,  lest  by  temptation  he 
should  be  drawn  to  do,  but  not  distrustfully  fearful,  as  knowing  the 
helps  and  mercies  of  his  father.  But  a  slavish  fear,  is,  when  a 
man,  having  no  apprehensions  of  God's  love,  or  willingness  to  show 
him  mercy,  doth  look  that  God  should  deal  with  him  as  a  slave, 
and  destroy  him  whenever  he  doth  amiss.  It  is  this  slavish,  tor- 
menting fear  which  I  spend  all  this  writing  against.  But  yet  a 
great  deal,  even  of  this  slavish  fear,  may  be  in  those  sons,  that 
knew  not  themselves  to  be  sons. 

But  suppose  you  were  out  of  all  fear  of  damnation  ;  do  not  belie 
your  own  heart,  and  tell  me,  Had  you  not  rather  be  holy  than  un- 
holy ;  pleasing  to  God  than  displeasing  ?  And  would  not  the  hope 
of  salvation  draw  you  from  sin  to  duty,  without  the  fear  of  dam- 
nation in  hell?  But  you  will  say,  'That  is  still  mercenary,  and 
as  bad  as  slavish  fears.'  I  answer,  '  Not  so :  this  hope  of  salvation 
is  the  hope  of  enjoying  God,  and  living  in  perfect  pleasingness  to 
him,  and  pleasure  in  him  in  glory  ;  and  the  desire  of  this  is  a  de- 
sire of  love :  it  is  love  to  God  that  makes  you  desire  him,  and 
hope  to  enjoy  hirn. 

Lastly,  I  say  again,  Take  heed  of  separating  what  God  hath 
joined.  If  God,  by  putting  in  your  nature  the  several  passions  of 
hope,  fear,  love,  &,c.,  and  by  putting  a  holiness  into  these  passions, 
by  sanctifying  grace,  and  by  putting  both  promises  and  dreadful 
threatenings  into  his  word ;  I  say,  if  God  by  all  these  means  hath 
given  you  several  motives  to  obedience,  take  heed  of  separating 
them.  ■  Do  not  once  ask  your  heart  such  a  question,  '  Whether  it 
would  obey  if  there  were  no  threatening,  and  so  no  fear.'  Nor  on 
the  other  side,  do  not  let  fear  do,  all  without  love.  Doubtless,  the 
more  love  constraineth  to  duty,  the  better  it  is ;  and  you  should 
endeavor  with  all  your  might  that  you  might  feel  more  of  the  force 
of  love  in  your  duties  ;  but  do  you  not  mark  how  you  cherish  that 
corruption  that  you  complain  of?  Your  doubts  and  tormenting 
fears  are  the  things  that  love  should  cast  out.  Why,  then,  do  you 
entertain  them?  If  you  say,  '  I  cannot  help  it ;'  why,  then,  do  you 
cherish  them,  and  own  them,  and  plead  and  dispute  for  them  ?  and 
say  you  do  well  to  doubt,  and  you  have  cause  ?  Will  this  ever 
cast  out  tormenting  fears  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  the  way  to  cast 
them  out,  is  not  to  maintain  them  by  distrustful  thoughts  or  words  ; 
but  to  see  their  sinfulness  and  abhor  them,  and  to  get  more  high 
thoughts  of  the  loving  kindness  of  God,  and  the  tender  mercies  of 
the  Redeemer,  and  the  unspeakable  love  that  he  hath  manifested 
in  his  suffering  for  you,  and  so  the  love  of  God  may  be  more  ad- 
vanced and  powerful  in  your  soul,  and  may  be  able  to  cast  nut 
VOL.  1.  54 


426  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

your  tormenting  fears?  Why  do  you  not  do  this  instead  of  doubt- 
ing ?  If  tormenting  fears  and  doubtings  be  a  sin,  why  do  you  not 
make  conscience  of  them,  and  bewail  it  that  you  have  been  so 
guilty  of  them?  Will  you  therefore  doubt  because  you  have 
slavish  fears  ?  Why,  that  is  to  doubt  because  you  doubt ;  and  to 
fear  because  you  fear ;  and  so  to  sin  still  because  you  have  sinned. 
Consider  well  of  the  folly  of  this  course. 

Doubt  7.  '  But  I  am  not  able  to  believe ;  and  without  faith 
there  is  no  pleasing  God,  nor  hope  of  salvation ;  I  fear  unbelief 
will  be  my  ruin.' 

Ansiv.  1.  I  have  answered  this  doubt  fully  before.  It  is  ground- 
ed on  a  mistake  of  the  nature  of  true  faith.  You  think  that  faith 
is  the  believing  that  you  are  in  God's  favor,  and  that  you  are  justi- 
fied ;  but  properly  this  is  no  faith  at  all,  but  only  assurance,  which 
is  sometin)es  a  fruit  of  faith,  and  sometimes  never  in  this  life  ob- 
tained by  a  believer.  Faith  consisteth  of  two  parts.  1.  Assent  to 
the  truth  of  the  word.  2.  Acceptance  of  Christ  as  he  is  offered, 
which  immediately  produceth  a  trusting  on  Christ  for  salvation, 
and  consent  to  be  governed  by  him,  and  resolution  to  obey  him; 
which,  in  the  fullest  sense,  are  also  acts  of  faith.  Now,  do  you  not 
believe  the  truth  of  the  gospel  ?  And  do  you  not  accept  of  Christ 
as  he  is  offered  therein  ?  If  you  are  truly  willing  to  have  Christ 
as  he  is  offered,  I  dare  say  you  are  a  tme  believer.  If  you  be  not 
willing,  for  shame  never  complain.  Men  use  rather  to  speak  against 
those  that  they  are  unwilling  of,  than  complain  of  their  absence, 
and  that  they  cannot  enjoy  them. 

2.  However,  seeing  you  complain  of  unbelief,  in  the  name  of 
God  do  not  cherish  it,  and  plead  for  it,  and  by  your  own  cogita- 
tions fetch  in  daily  matter  to  feed  it ;  but  do  more  in  detestation  of 
it,  as  well  as  complain. 

Doubt  8.  '  But  I  am  a  stranger  to  the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  and 
the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  communion  with  God,  and  there- 
fore how  can  I  be  a  true  believer?' 

Answ.  1.  Feeding  your  doubts  and  perplexities,  and  arguing 
for  them,  is  not  a  means  to  get  the  testimony  and  joy  of  the  Spirit, 
but  rather  studying  with  all  saints  to  know  the  love  of  God  which 
passeth  knowledge,  to  comprehend  the  height,  and  breadth,  and 
length  and  depth  of  his  love  ;  and  seeking  to  understand  the  things 
that  are  given  you  of  God.  Acknowledge  God's  general  love  to 
mankind,  both  in  his  gracious  nature,  and  common  providences, 
and  redemption  by  Christ,  and  deny  not  his  special  mercies  to 
yourself,  but  dwell  in  the' study  of  the  riches  of  grace,  and  that  is 
the  way  to  come  to  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  2.  I  have  told 
you  before  what  the  witness  of  the  Spirit  is,  and  what  is  the  ordi- 
nary mistake  herein.     If  you  have  the  graces  and  holy  operations 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COM^'ORT,  4*27 

of  the  Spirit,  you  have  the  witness  of  the  Spirit,  whether  you  know 
it  or  not.  3.  If  by  your  own  doublings  you  have  deprived  your- 
self of  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  bewail  it,  and  do  so  no  more  ; 
but  do  not  therefore  say  you  have  not  the  Holy  Ghost.  For  the 
Holy  Ghost  often  works  regeneration  and  holiness  before  he  works 
any  sensible  joys.  4.  You  have  some  hope  of  salvation  by  Christ 
left  in  you  ;  you  are  hot  yet  in  utter  despair ;  and  is  it  no  comfort 
to  you  to  think  that  you  have  yet  any  hope,  and  are  not  quite  past 
all  remedy  ?  It  may  be  your  sorrows  may  so  cloud  it  that  you 
take  no  notice  of  it ;  but  I  know  you  cannot  have  the  least  hope 
whhout  some  answerable  comfort.  And  may  not  that  comfort  be 
truly  the  joy  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ?  5.  And  for  communion  with 
God,  let  me  ask  you.  Have  you  no  recourse  to  him  by  prayer  in 
your  straits  ?  Do  you  not  wait  at  his  mouth  for  the  law  and  direc- 
tion of  your  life  ?  Have  you  received  no  holy  desn-es,  or  other 
graces  from  him  ?  Nay,  are  you  sure  that  you  are  not  a  member 
of  Christ,  who  is  one  with  him  ?  How  can  you,  then,  say  you  have 
no  communion  with  him  ?  Can  there  be  communication  of  prayer 
and  obedience  from  you  ;  yea,  your  own  self  delivered  up  to  Christ ; 
and  a  communication  of  any  life  of  grace  from  God,  by  Christ  and 
the  Spirit ;  and  all  this  without  communion  ?  It  cannot  be.  Many 
a  soul  hath  most  near  communion  with  Christ  that  knows  it  not. 

Doubt  9.  '  I  have  not  the  spirit  of  prayer ;  when  I  should  pour 
out  my  soul  to  God,  I  have  neither  bold  access,  nor  matter  of 
prayer,  nor  words.' 

Answ.  Do  you  know  what  the  spirit  of  prayer  is  ?  It  contain- 
eth,  1.  Desires  of  the  soul  after  the  things  we  want,  especially 
Christ  and  his  graces.  2.  An  addressing  ourselves  to  God  with 
these  desires,  that  we  may  have  help  and  relief  from  him.  Have 
not  you  both  these  ?  Do  you  not  desire  Christ  and  grace,  justifi- 
cation and  sanctification  ?  Do  you  not  look  to  God  as  him  who 
alone  is  able  to  supply  your  wants,  and  bids  you  ask  that  you 
may  receive?  Do  you  utterly  despair  of  help,  and  so  seek  to 
none  ?  Or  do  you  make  your  addresses  by  prayer  to  any  but  God  ? 
But  perhaps  you  look  at  words  and  matter  to  dilate  upon,  that  you 
may  be  able  to  hold  out  in  a  long  speech  to  God,  and  you  think 
that  it  is  the  effect  of  the  spirit  of  prayer.  But  where  do  you  find 
that  in  God's  word  ?  I  confess  that  in  many,  and  most,  the  Spirit 
which  helpeth  to  desires,  doth  also  help  to  some  kind  of  expres- 
sions ;  because  if  a  man  be  of  able  natural  parts,  and  have  a  tongue 
to  express  his  own  mind,  the  promoting  of  holy  desires  will  help 
men  to  expressions.  For  a  full  soul  is  hardly  hindered  from  vent- 
ing itself;  and  experience  teacheth  us,  that  the  Spirit's  inflaming 
the  heart  with  holy  affections,  doth  very  much  furnish  both  the 
invention  and  expression.     But  this  is  but  accidental  and  uncer- 


428  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

tain  ;  for  those  that  are  either  men  of  unready  tongues,  or  that  are 
so  ill  bred  among  the  rude  vulgar,  that  they  want  fit  expressions  of 
their  own  minds,  or  that  are  of  over-bashful  dispositions,  or  espe- 
cially that  are  of  small  knowledge,  and  of  little  and  short  acquaint- 
ance with  those  that  should  teach  them  to  pray  by  their  exam-pie, 
or  that  have  been  but  of  short  standing  in  the  school  of  Christ, — 
such  a  man  may  have  the  spirit  of  prayer  many  a  year,  and  never 
be  able,  in  full  expressions  of  his  own,  to  make  known  his  wants 
to  God ;  no,  nor,  in  good  and  tolerable  sense  and  language,  before 
others  to  speak  to  God,  from  his  own  invention.  A  man  may 
know  all  those  articles  of  the  faith  that  are  of  flat  necessity  to  sal- 
vation, and  yet  not  be  able  to  find  matter  or  words  for  the  opening 
of  his  heart  to  God  at  length.  I  would  advise  such  to  frequent 
the  company^of  those  that  can  teach  and  help  them  in  prayer,  and 
neglect  not  to  use  the  smallest  parts  they  have,  especially  in  secret, 
between  God  and  their  own  souls,  where  they  need  not,  so  much 
as  in  public,  to  be  regardful  of  expressions ;  and  in  the  mean  time 
to  learn  a  prayer  from  some  book,  that  may  most  fitly  express  their 
necessities ;  or  to  use  the  book  itself  in  prayer,  if  they  distrust 
their  memories,  not  resolving  to  stick  here,  and  make  it  a  means  of 
indulging  their  laziness  and  negligence,  much  less  to  reproach  and 
deride  those  that  express  their  desires  to  God  from  the  present 
sense  of  their  own  wants,  (as  some  wickedly  do  deride  such  ;)  but 
to  use  this  lawful  help  till  they  are  able  to  do  better  without  it  than 
with  it,  and  then  to  lay  it  by,  and  not  before.  The  Holy  Ghost 
is  said  (Rom.  viii.  16.)  to  help  our  infirmities  in  prayer;  but  how? 
1.  By  teaching  us  what  to  pray  for;  not  always  what  matter  or 
words  to  enlarge  ourselves  by ;  but  what  necessary  graces  to  pray 
for.  2.  By  giving  us  sighs  and  groans  inexpressible,  which  is  far 
from  giving  copious  expressions  ;  for  groans  and  sighs  be  not  words, 
and  if  they  be  groans  that  We  cannot  express,  it  would  rather  seem 
to  intimate  a  want  of  expression,  than  a  constant  abounding  there- 
in, where  the  Spirit  doth  assist ;  though  indeed  the  meaning  is, 
that  the  groans  are  so  deep,  that  they  are  past  the  expression  of 
our  words  :  all  our  speech  cannot  express  that  deep  sense  that  is 
in  our  hearts.  For  the  understanding  hath  the  advantage  of  the 
affections  herein ;  all  the  thoughts  of  the  mind  may  be  expressed 
to  others,  but  the  feelings  and  fervent  passions  of  the  soul  can  be 
but  very  defectively  expressed. 

Lastly,  All  have  not  the  spirit  of  prayer  in  like  measure ;  nor 
all  that  have  it  in  a  great  measure  at  one  time,  can  find  it  so  at 
pleasure.  Desires  rise  and  fall,  and  these  earnest  groans  be  not  jn 
every  prayer  where  the  Holy  Ghost  doth  assist.  I  believe  there 
is  never  a  prayer  that  ever  a  believer  did  put  up  to  God  for  things 
lawful  and  useful,  but  it  was  put  up  by  the  help  of  the  Spirit. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  4'29 

For  the  weakest  prayer  hath  some  degree  of  good  desire  in  it,  and 
addresses  to  God  with  an  endeavor  to  express  them  ;  and  these  can 
come  from  none  but  only  from  the  Spirit.  Mere  words,  without  de- 
sires, are  no  more  prayer  tlian  a  suit  of  apparel,  hanged  on  a  stake, 
is  a  man.  You  may  have  the  spirit  of  prayer,  and  yet  have,  it  in 
a  very  weak  degree. 

Yet  still  I  would  encourage  you  to  bewail  your  defect  herein  as 
your  sin,  and  seek  earnestly  the  supply  of  your  wants  ;  but  what 
is  that  to  the  questioning  or  denying  your  sincerity,  or  right  to  sal- 
vation ? 

Doubt  10.  '  I  have  no  gifts  to  make  me  u^ful  to  myself  or  oth- 
ers. When  I  shouhd  profit  by  the  word,  1  cannot  remember  it  : 
when  I  should  reprove  a  sinner,  or  instruct'  the  ignorant,  I  have 
not  word;? :  if  I  were  called  to  give  an  account  of  my  faith,  I  have 
not  words  to  express  that  which  is  in  my  mind :  and  what  grace 
can  here  be  then  ? ' 

Answ.  This  needs  no  long  answer.  Lament  and  amend  those 
sins  by  which  you  have  been  disabled.  But  know,  that  these  gifts 
depend  more  on  nature,  art,  industry  and  common  grace,  than 
upon  special  saving  grace.  Many  a  bad  man  is  excellent  in  all 
these,  and  many  a  one  that  is  truly  godly  is  defective.  Where 
hath  God  laid  our  salvation  upon  the  strength  of  our  memories,  the 
readiness  of  our  tongues,  or  measure  of  the  like  gifts  ?  That  were 
almost  as  if  he  sliould  have  made  a  law,  that  all  shall  be  saved  that 
have  sound  complexions,  and  healthful  and  youthful  bodies ;  and 
all  be  damned  that  are  sickly,  aged,  weak,  children,  and  most 
women. 

Doubt  11.  '  O,  but  I  have  been  a  grievous  sinner,  before  I  came 
home,  and'  have  fallen  foully  since,  and  I  am  utterly  unworthy  of 
mercy  !  Will  the  Lord  ever  save  such  an  unworthy  wretch  as  I  ? 
Will  he  ever  give  his  mercy  and  the  blood  of  his  Son  to  one  that 
hath  so  abused  it  ? ' 

Answ.  1.  The  question  is  not,  with  God,  what  you  have  been, 
but  what  you  are.  God  tak(3s  men  as  they  then  are,  and  not  as 
they  were.  2.  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  object  the  greatness  of 
your  guilt  against  God's  mercy  and  Christ's  merits.  Do  you  think 
Christ's  satisfaction  is  not  sufficient  ?  Or  that  he  died  for  small 
sins  and  not  for  great  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  he  bath  made  satis- 
faction for  all,  and  will  pardon  all,  and  hath  given  out  the  pardon 
of  all  in  his  covenant,  and  that  to  all  men,  on  condition  they  will 
accept  Christ  to  pardon  and  heal  them  in  his  own  way  ?  Hath 
God  made  it  his  great  design,  in  the  work  of  man's  redemption,  to 
make  his  love  and  mercy  as  honorable  and  wonderful  as  he  did  his 
power  in  the  work  of  creation  ?  And  will  you,  after  all  this,  oppose 
the  greatness  of  yotir  sins  against  the  greatness  of  this  mercy  and 


430        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

satisfaction  ?  Why,  you  may  as  well  think  yourself  to  be  such  a 
one,  that  God  could  not  or  did  not  make  you,  as  to  think  your  sins 
so  great,  that  Christ  could  not  or  did  not  satisfy  for  them,  or  will 
not  pardon  them,  if  you  repent  and  believe  in  him.  3.  And  for 
worthiness,  I  pray  you  observe  ;  there  is  a  -twofold  worthiness  and 
righteousness.  There  is  a  legal  worthiness  and  righteousness, 
which  consisteth  in  a  perfect  obedience,  which  is  the  performance 
of  the  conditions  of  the  law  of  pure  nature  and  works.  This  no 
man  hath  but  Christ ;  and  if  you  look  after  this  righteousness  or 
worthiness  in  yourself,  then  do  you  depart  from  Christ,  and  make 
him  to  have  died  aijd  satisfied  in  vain :  you  are  a  Jew,  and  not  a 
Christian,  and  are  one  of  those  that  Paul  so  much  disputeth  against, 
that  would  be  justified  by  the  law.  Nay,  you  must  not  so  much  as 
once  imagine  that  all  your  own  works  can  be  any  part  of  this  legal 
righteousness  or  worthiness  to  you.  Only  Christ's  satisfaction  and 
merit  is  instead  of  this  our  legal  righteousness  and  worthiness. 
God  never  gave  Christ  and  mercy  to  any  but  the  unworthy  in  this 
sense.  If  you  know  not  yourself  to  be  unworthy  and  unrighteous 
in  the  sense  of  the  law  of  works,  you  cannot  know  what  Christ's 
righteousness  is.  Did  Christ  come  to  save  any  but  sinners,  and 
such  as  were  lost  ?  What  need  you  a  Savior,  if  you  were  not 
condemned  ?  And  how  come  you  to  be  condemned,  if  you  were 
not  unrighteous  and  unworthy  ?  But  then,  2.  There  is  an  evan- 
gelical personal  worthiness  and  righteousness,  which  is  the  condi- 
tion on  which  God  bestows  Christ's  righteousness  upon  us ;  and 
this  all  have  that  will  be  saved  by  Christ.  But  what  is  that  ? 
Why,  it  hath  two  parts :  i.  The  condition  and  worthiness  required 
to  your  union  with  Christ,  and  pardon  of  all  your  sins  past,  and 
your  adoption  and  justification  ;  it  is  no  more  but  your  hearty  and 
thankful  acceptance  of  the  gift  that  is  freely  given  you  of  God  by 
his  covenant  grant ;  that  is,  Christ  and  life  in  him ;  1  John  v. 
10 — 12.  There  is  no  worthiness  required  in  you  before  faith,  as 
a  condition  on  which  God  will  give  you  faith ;  but  only  certain 
means  you  are  appointed  to  use  for  the  obtaining  it :  and  faith 
itself  is  but  the  acceptance  of  a  free  gift.  God  requireth  you  not 
to  bring  any  other  worthiness  or  price  in  your  hands,  but  that  you 
conseiit  unfeignedly  to  have  Christ  as  he  is  offered,  and  to  the 
ends  and  uses  that  he  is  offered ;  that  is,  as  one  that  hath  satisfied 
for  you  by  his  blood  and  merits,  to  put  away  your  sins,  and  as  one 
that  must  illuminate  and  teach  you,  sanctify,  and  guide,  and  govern 
you  by  his  word  and  Spirit ;  and,  as  King  and  Judge,  will  fully  and 
finally  justify  you  at  the  day  of  judgment,  and  give  you  the  crown 
of  glory.  Christ,  on  his  part,  1.  Hath  merited  your  pardon  by  his 
satisfaction,  and  not  properly  by  his  sanctifying  you.  2.  And 
sanctifieth  you  by  his  Spirit,  and  ruleth  you  by  his  laws,  and  not 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  431 

directly  by  his  bloodshed.  3.  And  he  will  justify  you  at  judu;ment 
as  King  and  Judge,  and  not  as  Satisfier  or  Sanctitier.  But  the 
condition,  on  your  part,  of  obtaining  interest  in  Christ  and  his  bene- 
fits, is  that  one  faith  which  accepteth  him  in  all  these  respects,  (both 
as  King,  Priest  and  Teacher,)  and  to  all  these  ends  conjunctly. 
But  then,  ii.  The  condition  and  worthiness  required  to  the  con- 
tinuation and  consummation  of  your  pardon,  justification,  and  right 
to  glory,  is  both  the  continuance  of  your  faith,  and  your  sincere 
obedience^  even  your  keeping  the  baptismal  covenant  that  you 
made  with  Christ  by  your  parents,  and  the  covenant  which  you  in 
your  own  person  made  with  him  in  your  first  true  believing.  These 
indeed  are  called  Worthiness  and  Righteousness  frequently  in  the 
gospel.  But  it  is  no  worthiness  consisting  in  any  such  works,  which 
make  the  reward  to  be  of  debt,  and  not  of  grace,  (of  which  Paul 
speaks,)  but  only  in  faith,  and  such  gospel-works  as  James  speaks 
of,  which  make  the  reward  to  be  wholly  of  grace,  and  not  debt. 

Now,  if  you  say  you  are  unworthy  in  this  evangelical  sense,  then 
you  must  mean,  (if  you  know  what  you  say,)  that  you  are  an  infi- 
del or  unbeliever,  or  an  impenitent,  obstinate  rebel,  that  would  not 
have  Christ  to  reign  over  him ;  for  the  gospel  calleth  none  unwor- 
thy, (as  non-performers  of  its  conditions,)  but  only  these.  But  I 
hope  you  dare  not  charge  yourself  with  such  infidelity  and  willful 
rebellion. 

Doubt  12.  '  Though  God  hath  kept  me  from  gross  sins,  yet  1 
find  such  searedness  of  conscience,  and  so  little  averseness  from  sin 
in  my  mind,  that  I  fear  I  should  commit  it  if  I  lay  under  tempta- 
tions ;  and  also  that  I  should  not  hold  out  in  trial  if  I  were  called 
to  suffer  death,  or  any  grievous  calamity.  And  that  obedience  which 
endureth  merely  for  want  of  a  temptation,  is  no  true  obedience.' 

Ansiu.  1 .  I  have  fully  answered  this  before.  If  you  can  over- 
come the  temptations  of  prosperity,  you  have  no  cause  to  doubt^ 
distrustfully,  whether  you  shall  overcome  the  temptation  of  adver- 
sity. And  if  God  give  you  grace  to  avoid  temptations  to  sin,  and 
flee  occasions  as  much  as  you  can,  and  to  overcome  them  where  you 
cannot  avoid  them,  you  have  little  reason  to  distmst  his  preserva- 
tion of  yott,  and  your  steadfastness  thereby,  if  you  should  be  cast 
upon  greater  temptations.  Indeed,  if  you  feel  not  such  a  belief  of 
the  evil  and  danger  of  sinning,  as  to  possess  you  with  some  sensible 
hatred  of  it,  you  have  need  to  look  to  your  heart  for  the  strength- 
ening of  that  belief  and  hatred  ;  and  fear  your  heart  with  a  godly, 
preserving  jealousy,  but  not  with  tormenting,  disquieting  doubts. 
Whatever  your  passionate  hatred  be,  if  you  have  a  settled,  well- 
grounded  resolution  to  walk  in  obedience  to  the  death,  you  may 
confidently  and  comfortably  trust  him  for  your  preservation,  who 
gave  you  those  resolutions. 


■432  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

2.  And  the  last  sentence  of  this  doubt  had  need  of  great  caution, 
before  you  conclude  it  a  certain  truth.  It  is  true  that*  the  obedi- 
ence, which,  by  an  ordinary  temptation,  such  as  men  may  expect, 
would  be  overthrown,  is  not  well  grounded  and  rooted  before  it  is 
overthrown.  But  it  is  a  great  doubt  whether  there  be  not  degrees 
of  temptation  possible,  which  would  overcome  the  resolution  and 
grace  of  the  most  holy,  having  such  assistance  as  the  Spirit  usually 
giveth  believers  in  temptation ;  and  whether  some  temptations 
which  overcome  not  a  strong  Christiap,  would  not  overcorpe  a  weak 
one,  who  yet  hath  true  grace.  I  conclude  nothing  of  these  doubts. 
But  I  would  not  have  you  trouble  yourself  upon  confident  conclu- 
sions, on  so  doubtful  grounds.  This  I  am  certain  of;  1.  That  the 
strongest  Christian  should  take  heed  of  temptation,  and  not  trust  to 
the  strength  of  his  graces,  nor  presume  on  God's  preservation, 
while  he  willfully  casteth  himself  in  the  mouth  of  .dangers  ;  nor  to 
be  encouraged  hereunto  upon  any  persuasion  of  an  impossibility  ot 
his  falling  aw^ay.  O,  the  falls,  the  fearful  falls  that  I  have  known 
(alas  !  how  often  !)  the  most  eminent  men  for  godliness  that  ever  I 
knew,  to  be  guilty  of,  by  casting  themselves  upon  temptations  !  I 
confess  I  will  never  be  confident  of  that  man's  perseverance,  were 
he  the  best  that  I  know  on  earth,  who  casteth  himself  upon  violent 
temptations,  especially  the  temptations  of  sensuality,  prosperity, 
and  seducement.  2.  I  know  God  hath  taught  us  daily  to  watch 
and  pray,  that  we  enter  not  into  temptation,  and  to  pray,  "  Lead 
us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver  us  from  evil."  (I  never  under- 
stood the  necessity  of  that  petition  feelingly,  till  I  saw  the  examples 
of  these  seven  or  eight  years  last  past.)  This"  being  so,  you  must 
look  that  your  perseverance  should  be  by  being  preserved  from 
temptation ;  and  must  rather  examine,  whether  you  have  that 
grace  which  will  enable  you  to  avoid  temptations,  than  whether 
you  have  grace  enough  to  overcome  them,  if  you  rush  into  them. 
But  if  God  unavoidably  cast  you  upon  them,  keep  up  your  watch 
and  prayer,  and  you  have  no  cause  to  trouble  yourself  with  distrust- 
ful fears.  • 

Doubt  13.  'I»am  afraid,  lest  I  have  committed  the  unpardona- 
ble sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost;  and  then  there  is  no  hape  of  my 
salvation.' 

Ansiv.  It  seems  you  know  not  what  the  sin  against  the  Holy 
Ghost  is.  It  is  this  ;  When  a  man  is  convinced  that  Christ  and  his 
disciples  did  really  work  those  glorious  miracles  which  are  record- 
ed in  the  gospel,  and  yet  will  not  believe  that  Christ  is  the  Son  of 
God,  and  his  doctrine  tme,  though  sealed  with  all  those  miracles, 
and  other  holy  and  wonderful  works  of  the  Spirit,  but  doth  blasphe- 
mously maintain  that  they  were  done  by  the  power  of  the  devil ; 
this  is  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost.     And  dare  you  say  that 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  433 

you  are  guilt)  of  this  ?  If  you  be,  then  you  do  not  believe  that 
Christ  is  the  Son  of  God,  and  the.  Messiah,  and  his  gospel  true. 
And  then  you  will  sure  oppose  him,  and  maintain  that  he  was  a  de- 
ceiver, and  that  the  devil  was  the  author  of  all  the  miraculous  and 
gracious  workings  of  his  Spirit.  Then  you  will  never  fear  his  dis- 
pleasure, nor  call  him  seriously  either  Lord  or  Savior ;  nor  tender 
him  any  service,  any  more  than  you  do  to  Mahomet.  None  but 
infidels  do  commit  the  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost ;  nor  but 
few  of  them.  Unbelief  is  eminently  called  "  sin  "  in  the  gospel ; 
and  that  "unbelief"  which  is  maintained  by  blaspheming  the  glo- 
rious works  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  Christ  and  his  disciples 
through  many  years  time  did  perform  for  a  testimony  to  his  truth, 
that  is  called,  singularly,  "  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost!  "  You 
may  meet  with  other  descriptions  of  this  sin,  which  may  occasion 
your  terror;  but  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  this  is  the  plain  truth. 

Doubt  14.  '  But  I  greatly  fear  lest  the  time  of  grace  be  past, 
and  lest  I  have  out-sat  the  day  of  mercy,  and  now  mercy  hath 
wholly  forsaken  me.  For  I  have  oft  heard  ministers  tell  me  from 
the  word,  "  Now  is  the  accepted  time,  now  is  the  day  of  your  visi- 
tation ;  to-day,  while  it  is  called  to-day,  harden  not  your  hearts, 
lest  God  swear  in  his  wrath,  that  they  shall  not  enter  into  his  rest." 
But  I  have  stood  out  long  after ;  I  have  resisted  and  quenched  the 
Spirit ;  and  now  it  is,  I  fear,  departed  from  me.' 

Answ.  Here  is  sufficient  matter  for  humiliation,  but  the  doubt- 
ing ariseth  merely  from  ignorance.  The  day  of  grace  may  in  two 
respects  be  said  to  be  over :  The  first  (and  most  properly  so  called) 
is.  When  God  will  not  accept  of  a  sinner,  though  he  should  repent 
and  return.  This  is  never  in  this  life  for  certain.  And  he  that 
imagineth  any  such  thing  as  that  it  is  too  late,  while  his  soul  is  in 
his  body,  to  repent  and  accept  of  Christ  and  mercy,  is  merely 
ignorant  of  the  tenor  and  sense  of  the  gospel.  For  the  new  law 
of  grace  doth  limit  no  time  on  earth  for  God's  accepting  of  a  re- 
turning sinner.  True  faith  and  repentance  do  as  surely  save  at  the 
last  hour  of  the  day  as  at  the  first.  God  hath  said,  that  whosoever 
believeth  in  Christ  shall  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.  He 
hath  no  where  excepted  late  believers  or  repenters.  Show  any- 
such  exception  if  you  can. 

The  second  sense  in  which  it  may  be  said  that  the  day  of  grace 
is  over,  is  this :  When  a  man  hath  so  long  resisted  the  Spirit,  that 
God  hath  given  him  over  to  the  willful,  obstinate  refusals  of  mercy, 
and  of  Christ's  government,  resolving  that  he  will  never  give  him 
the  prevailing  grace  of  his  Spirit.  Where  note,  1.  That  this  same 
man  might  still  have  grace  as  soon  as  any  other,  if  he  were  but 
willing  to  accept  Christ  and  grace  in  him.  2.  That  no  man  can- 
VOL.  I.  .55 


434        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

know  of  himself,  or  any  other,  that  God  hath  thus  finally  forsaken 
him  ;  for  God  hath  given  us  no  sign  to  know  it  by,  (at  least  who 
sin  not  against  the  Holy  Ghost.)  God  hath  not  told  us  his  secret 
intents  concerning  such.  3.  Yet  some  men  have  lai-  greater 
cause  to  fear  it  than  others  ;  especially  those  men,  who,  under  the 
most  searching,  lively  sermons,  do  continue  secure  and  willful  in 
known  wickedness,  either  hating  godliness  and  godly  persons,  and 
all  that  do  reprove  them,  or  at  least  being  stupefied,  that  they  feel 
no  more  than  a  post  the  force  of  God's  terrors,  or  the  sweetness  of 
his  promises,  but  make  a  jest  of  sinning,  and  think  the  life  of  god- 
liness a  needless  thing.  Especially  if  they  grow  old  in  this  course, 
I  confess  such  have  great  cause  to  fear,  lest  they  are  quite  forsak- 
en of  God  ;  for  very  few  such  are  ever  recovered.  4.  And  there- 
fore it  may  well  be  said  to  all  men,  "  To-day,  if  you  will  hear  his 
voice,  harden  not  your  hearts,"  ficc.  And  "  This  is  the  acceptable 
time  ;  this  is  the  day  of  salvation  ; "  both  as  this  life  is  called,  "  the 
day  of  salvation,"  and  because  no  man  is  certain  to  live  another 
day,  that  he  may  repent ;  nor  yet  to  have  grace  to  repent  if  he  live. 
5.  But  what  is  all  this  to  you  that  do  repent  ?  Can  you  have 
cause  to  fear  that  your  day  of  grace  is  over,  that  have  received 
grace  ?  Why,  that  is  as  foolish  a  thing  as  if  a  man  should  come 
to  the  market  and  buy  corn,  and  when  he  hath  done,  go  home  la- 
menting that  the  market  was  past  before  he  came.  Or  as  a  man 
should  come  and  hear  a  sermon,  and  when  he  hath  done,  lament 
that  the  sermon  was  done  before  he  came.  If  your  day  of  grace 
be  past,  tell  me,  (and  do  not  wrong  God,)  Where  had  you  the 
grace  of  repentance?  How  came  you  by  that  grace  of  holy  de- 
sires ?  Who  made  you  willing  to  have  Christ  for  your  Lord  and 
Savior  ?  so  that  you  had  rather  have  him,  and  God's  favor,  and 
a  holy  heart  and  life,  than  all  the  glory  of  the  world.  How  came 
you  to  desire  that  you  were  such  a  one  as  God  would  have  you  to 
be?  And  to  desire  that  all  your  sins  were  dead,  and  might  never 
live  in  you  more?  And  that  you  were  able  to  love  God,  and 
delight  in  him,  and  please  him  even  in  perfection  ?  And  that  you 
are  so  troubled  that  you  cannot  do  it  ?  Are  these  signs-  that  your 
day  of  grace  is  over  ?  Doth  God's  Spirit  breathe  out  groans  after 
Christ  and  grace  within  you  ?  And  yet  is  the  day  of  grace  over  ? 
Nay,  what  if  you  had  no  grace  ?  Do  you  not  hear  God  daily  of- 
fering you  Christ  and  grace  ?  Doth  he  not  entreat  and  beseech 
you  to  be  reconciled  unto  him  ?  (2  Cor.  v.  19,  20.)  And  would 
he  not  compel  you  to  come  in  ?  (Matt,  xxii.)  Do  you  not  feel 
some  unquietness  in  your  sinful  condition  ?  and  some  motions 
and  strivings  at  your  heart  to  get  out  of  it  ?  Certainly,  (though  you 
should  be  one  that  hath  yet  no  grace  to  salvation,)  yet  these  con- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT,  435 

tinued  offers  of  grace,  and  the  strivings  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  with 
your  heart,  do  show  that  God  hath  not  quite  forsaken  you,  and 
that  your  day  of  grace  and  visitation  is  not  past. 

Doubt  15.  '  But  I  have  sinned  since  my  profession,  and  that 
even  against  my  knowledge  and  conscience.  I  have  had  tempta- 
tions to  sin,  and  I  have  considered  of  the  evil  and  danger,  and  yet, 
in  the  most  sober  deliberations,  I  have  resolved  to  sin.  And  how 
can  such  a  one  have  any  tme  grace,  or  be  saved  ? ' 

Answ.  1.  If  you  had  not  tme  grace,  God  is  still  offering  it,  and 
ready  to  work  it. 

2.  Where  do  you  find  in  Scripture,  that  none  who  have  true 
grace  do  sin  knowingly  or  deliberately  ?  Perhaps  you  will  say  in 
Heb.  X.  24.  "  If  we  sin  willfully,  after  the  knowledge  of  the  truth, 
there  remaineth  no  more  sacrifice  for  sin,  but  a  fearful  looking  for 
of  judgment,  and  fire,  which  shall  devour  the  adversaries."  Answ. 
But  you  must  know,  that  it  is  not  every  willful  sin  which  is  there 
mentioned;  but,  as  even  now  I  told  you,  unbelief  is  peculiarly  call- 
ed sin  in  the  New  Testament.  And  the  true  meaning  of  the  text 
is,  If  we  utterly  renounce  Christ  by  infidelity,  as  not  being  the  true 
Messiah,  after  we  have  known  his  truth,  then,  &ic.  Indeed,  none 
sin  more  against  knowledge  than  the  godly  when  they  do  sin ;  for 
they  know  more,  for  the  most  part,  than  others  do.  And  passion 
and  sensuality  (the  renmant  of  it  which  yet  remaineth)  will  be  work- 
ing strongly  in  your  very  deliberations  against  sin,  and  either  per- 
verting the  judgment  to  doubt  whether  it  be  a  sin,  or  whether  there 
be  any  such  danger  in  it ;  or  whether  it  be  not  a  very  little  sin ; 
or  else  blinding  it,  that  it  cannot  see  the  arguments  against  the  sin 
in  their  full  vigor ;  or  at  least  prepossessing  the  heart  and  delight, 
and  so  hindering  our  reasons  against  sin  from  going  down  to  the 
heart,  and  working  on  the  will,  and  so  from  commanding  the  actions 
of  the  body.  This  may  befall  a  godly  man.  And  moreover  God 
may  withdraw  his  grace  as  he  did  from  Peter  and  David  in  their 
sin.  And  then  our  considerations  will  work  but  faintly,  and  sensu- 
ality and  sinful  passion  will  work  effectually.  It  is  scarce  possible, 
I  think,  that  such  a  man  as  David  could  be  so  long  about  so  horrid 
a  sin,  and  after  contrive  the  murder  of  Uriali,  and  all  this  without 
deliberation,  or  any  reasoning  in  himself  to  the  contrary. 

3.  The  truth  is,  though  this  be  no  good  cause  for  any  repenting 
sinner  to  doubt  of  salvation,  yet  it  is  a  very  grievous  aggravation  of 
sin,  to  commit  it  against  knowledge  and  conscience,  and  upon  con- 
sideration. And  therefore  I  advise  all  that  love  their  peace  or  sal- 
vation to  take  heed  of  it.  For  as  they  will  find  that  no  sin  doth 
more  deeply  wound  the  conscience,  and  plunge  the  sinner  into  fear- 
ful perplexities,  which  ofttimes  hang  on  him  very  long,  so  the  of- 
tener  sucJi  sin  is  committed,  the  less  evidence  will  such  a  one  have 


4')6  DIRECTIONS    FOR    r.ETTINO    AND    KEEPING 

of  the  sincerity  of  iheir  faith  and  obedience ;  and  therefore  in  the 
name  of  God,  beware.  And  let  the  troubled  soul  make  this  the 
matter  of  his  moderate  humiliation,  and  spare  not.  Bewail  it  be- 
fore God.  Take  shame 'to  yourself,  and  freely  confess  it,  when 
you  are  called  to  it  before  men.  Favor  it  not,  and  deal  not  gently 
with  it,  if  you  would  have  peace ;  but  we  give  glory  to  God,  by 
taking  the  just  dishonor  to  yourselves.  Tender  dealing  is  an  ill 
sign,  and  hath  sad  effects.  But  yet  for  every  sin  against  knowledge, 
to  doubt  of  the  truth  of  grace,  is  not  right,  much  less  to  doubt  ol 
the  pardon  of  that  sin  when  we  truly  repent  of  it.  Are  you  un- 
feignedly  sorry  for  your  sins  against  conscience,  and  resolve  against 
them  for  the  future,  through  the  help  of  God's  grace  ?  If  so,  then 
that  sin  is  pardoned  now,  through  the  blood  of  Christ  believed  in, 
whether  you  had  then  grace  or  not. 

Doubt  16.  'But  I  have  such  corruptions  in  my  nature,  that  I 
cannot  overcome.  I  have  such  a  passionate  nature,  and  such  a 
vanity  of  mind,  and  such  worldly  desires,  that  though  I  pray  and 
strive  against  them  daily,  yet  do  they  prevail.  And  it  is  not  striv- 
ing without  overcoming  that  wall  prove  the  truth  of  grace  in  any. 
Besides,  I  do  not  grow  in  grace,  as  all  God's  people  do.' 

Ansiv.  1.  Do  you  think  sin  is  not  overcome  as  long  as  it  dwelleth 
in  us,  and  daily  troubleth  us,  and  is  working  in  us  ?  Paul  saith, 
"  The  evil  that  I  would  not  do,  that  I  do ; "  and,  "  We  cannot  do 
the  things  we  would."  And  yet  Paul  was  not  overcome  with  these 
sins,  nor  had  they  dominion  over  him.  You  must  consider  of  these 
sins  as  in  the  habit,  or  in  the  act.  In  the  habit  as  they  are  in  the 
passions  they  will  be  still  strong ;  but  as  they  are  in  the  will  they  are 
weak  and  overcome.  Had  you  not  rather  you  were  void  of  these 
passions  than  not,  and  that  you  might  restrain  them  in  the  act  ? 
Are  you  not  weary  of  them,  and  daily  pray  and  strive  against  them  ? 
If  so,  it  seems  they  have  not  your  will.  And  for  the  actual  passion 
(as  I  may  call  it)  itself,  you  must  distinguish  between,  1.  Those 
which  the  will  hath  full  power  of,  and  which  it  hath  but  partial 
power  over.  2.  And  between  the  several  degrees  of  the  passion. 
3.  And  between  the  inward  passion  and  the  outward  expressions. 

Some  degree  of  anger  and  of  lust  will  oft  stir  in  the  heart,  Avheth- 
er  we  will  or  not.  But  I  hope  you  restrain  it  in  the  degree  ;  and 
much  more  from  breaking  out  into  practices  of  lust,  or  cursed 
speeches,  or  railings,  backbitings,  slanderings,  or  revenge.  For 
these  your  will,  if  sanctified,  hath  power  to  command.  Even  the 
acts  of  our  corruptions,  as  well  as  the  habits,  will  stick  by  us  in  this 
life;  but  if  it  be  in  gross  sins,  or  avoidable  infirmities  carelessly  or 
willfully  continued,  I  can  tell  you  a  better  way  to  assurance  and 
comfort  than  your  complaints  are.  Instead  of  being  afraid  lest 
you  cannot  have  your  sin  and  Christ  together,  do  but  more  hearti- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  437 

ly  oppose  that  sin,  and  deal  roundly  and  conscionably  against  it,  till 
you  have  overcome  it,  and  then  you  may  ease  yourself  of  your 
complaints  and  troubles.  If  you  say,  '  O,  but  it  is  not  so  easily 
done.  1  cannot  overcome  it,  I  have  prayed  and  strove  against  it 
long.'  I  answer,  But' are  you  heartily  willing  to  be  rid  of  it?  If 
you  will,  it  will  be  no  impossible  matter  to  be  rid  of  the  outward  ex- 
pressions, and  the  high  degree  of  the  passion,  though  not  of  every 
degree.  Try  this  course  awhile,  and  then  judge.  1.  Plainly  con- 
fess your  guiltiness.  2.  Never  more  excuse  it,  or  plead  for  it,  to 
any  thatblameth  you.  3.  Desire  those  that  live  and  deal  with  you 
to  tell  you  roundly  of  it  as  soon  as  they  discern  it,  and  engage  your- 
self to  them  to  take  it  well,  as  a  friendly  action  which  yourself  re- 
quested of  them.  4.  When  you  feel  the  passion  begin  to  stir, 
enter  into  serious  consideration  of  the  sinfulness,  or  go  and  tell 
some  friend  of  your  frail  inclination,  and  presently  beg  their  help 
against  it.  If  it  be  godly  persons  that  you  are  angry  with,  instead 
of  giving  them  ill  words,  presently,  as  soon  as  you  feel  the  fire 
kindle,  say  to  them,  'I  have  a  very  passionate  nature,  which  alread}'^ 
is  kindled :  I  pray  you  reprehend  me  for  it,  and  help  me  against  it, 
and  pray  to  God  for  my  deliverance.'  Also  go  to  God  yourself, 
and  complain  to  him  of  it,  and  beg  his  help.  Lastly,  be  sure  that 
you  make  not  light  of  it,  and  see  that  you  avoid  the  occasions  as 
much  as  you  can.  If  you  are  indeed  willing  to  be  rid  of  the  sin, 
then  do  not  call  these  directions  too  hard.  But  show  your  willing- 
ness in  ready  practicing  them.  And  thus  you  may  see  that  it  is 
better  to  make  your  corruptions  the  matter  of  your  humiliation  and 
reformation,  than  of  your  torment. 

And  for  the  other  part  of  the  doubt  that  you  grow  not  in  ^race,  I 
answer:  1.  The  promises  of  growth  are  conditional,  or  else  signify 
what  God  will  usually  do  for  his  people :  but  it  is  certain  that  they 
be  not  absolute  to  all  believers.  For  it  is  certain  that  all  true 
Christians  do  not  always  grow ;  nay,  that  many  do  too  oft  decline, 
and  lose  their  first  fervor  of  love,  and  fall  into  sin,  and  live  more 
carelessly.  Yea,  it  is  certain  that  a  true  believer  may  die  in  such 
decays,  or  in  a  far  lower  state  than  formerly  he  hath  been  in.  If 
I  thought  this  needed  proof,  I  could  easily  prove  it ;  but  he  that 
openeth  his  eyes  may  soon  see  enough  proof  in  England.  2. 
Many  Christians  do  much  mistake  themselves  about  the  very  na- 
ture of  true  grace ;  and  then  no  wonder  if  they  think  that  they 
thrive  when  they  do  not,  and  that  they  thrive  not  when  they  do. 
They  think  that  more  of  the  life  and  truth  of  grace  doth  lie  in  pas- 
sionate feelings  of  sin,  grace,  duty,  &c.,  in  sensible  zeal,  grief,  joy, 
&,c.,  and  do  not  know  that  the  chief  part  lieth  in  the  understand- 
ing's estimation,  and  will's  firm  choice  and  resolution.  And  then 
they  think  they  decline  in  grace,  because  they  cannot  weep,  or  joy 


438        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

SO  sensibly  as  before.  Let  nie  assure  you  of  this  as  truth :  1 . 
Young  people  have  usually  more  vigor  of  affections  than  old  ;  be- 
cause they  have  more  vigor  of  body,  and  hot  blood,  and  agile, 
active  spirits ;  when  the  freezing,  decayed  bodies  and  spirits  of  old 
men  must  needs  make  an  abatement  of  their  fervor  in  all  duties. 
2.  The  like  may  be  said  of  most  that  are  weak  and  sickly  in  com- 
parison of  the  strong  and  healthful.  3.  All  things  affect  men  most 
deeply  when  they  are  new,  and  time  weareth  off  the  vigor  of  that 
affection.  The  first  hearing  of  such  a  fight,  or  such  a  victory,  or 
such  a  great  man  or  friend  dead,  doth  much  affect  us ;  but  so  it 
doth  not  still.  When  you  first  receive  any  benefit,  it  more  delight- 
eth  you  than  long  after.  So  maiTied  people,  or  any  other,  in  the 
first  change  of  their  condition,  are  more  affected  with  it  than  after- 
ward. And  indeed  man's  nature  cannot  hold  up  in  a  constant  ele- 
vation of  affections.  Children  are  more  taken  with  every  thing 
that  they  see  and  hear  than  old  men,  because  all  is  new  to  them, 
and  all  seems  old  to  the  other.  4.  I  have  told  you  before  that 
some  natures  are  more  fiery,  passionate  and  fervent  than  others 
are ;  and  in  such  a  little  grace  will  cause  a  great  deal  of  earnest- 
ness, zeal  and  passion.  But  let  me  tell  you,  that  you  may  grow 
in  these,  and  not  grow  in  the  body  of  your  graces.  Doubtless 
Satan  himself  may  do  so  much  to  kindle  your  zeal,  if  he  do  but  see 
it  void  of  sound  knowledge,  as  he  did  in  James  and  John  when 
they  would  have  called  for  fii-e  from  heaven  ;  but  they  knew  not 
what  spirit  they  were  of.  For  the  doleful  case  of  Christ's  church- 
es in  this  age  hath  put  quite  beyond  dispute  that  none  do  the  devil's 
work  more  effectually,  nor  oppose  the  kingdom  of  Christ  more  des- 
perately, than  they  that  have  the  hottest  zeal  with  the  weakest 
judgments.  And  as  fire  is  most  excellent  and  necessary  in  the 
chimney,  but  in  the  thatch  it  is  worse  than  the  vilest  dung,  so  is 
zeal  most  excellent  when  guided  by  sound  judgment,  but  more 
destructive  than  profane  sensuality  when  it  is  let, loose  and  mis- 
guided. 

On  the  other  side,  you  may  decay  much  in  feeling  and  fervor  of 
affections,  and  yet  grow  in  grace,  if  you  do  but  grow  in  the  under- 
standing and  the  will.  And  indeed  this  is  the  common  growth 
which  Christians  have  in  their  age.  Examine,  therefore,  whether 
you  have  this  or  no.  Do  you  not  understand  the  things  of  the 
Spirit  better  than  you  formerly  did?  Do  you  not  value  God, 
Christ,  glory  and  grace  at  higher  rates  than  formerly?  Are  you 
not  more  fully  resolved  to  stick  to  Christ  to  the  death  than  formerly 
you  have  been  ?  I  do  not  think  but  it  would  be  a  harder  work  for 
Satan  to  draw  you  from  Christ  to  the  flesh  than  heretofore.  When 
the  tree  hath  done  growing  in  visible  greatness,  it  groweth  in  root- 
edness.     The   fruit  grows  first  in  bulk  and  quantity,  and  then  in 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORf,  439 

mellow  sweetness.  Are  not  you  less  censorious  and  more  peace- 
able than  heretofore  ?  I  tell  you  that  is  a  more  noble  growth  tlian 
a  great  deal  of  austere  and  bitter,  youthful,  censorious,  dividing  zeal 
of  many  will  prove.  Mark  most  aged,  experienced  Christians, 
that  walk  uprightly,  and  you  will  find  that  they  quite  outstrip  the 
younger,  1.  In  experience,  knowledge,  prudence,  and  soundness 
of  judgment.  2.  In  well-settled  resolutions  for  Christ,  his  truth, 
and  cause.  3.  In  a  love  of  peace,  especially  in  the  church,  and  a 
hatred  of  dissensions,  perverse  contendings  and  divisions.  If  you 
can  show  this  growth,  say  not  that  you  do  not  grow. 

3.  But  suppose  you  do  not  grow,  should  you  therefore  deny  the 
sincerity  of  your  grace  ?  I  would  not  persuade  any  soul  that  they 
grow  when  they  do  not.  But  if  you  do  not,  be  humbled  for  it, 
and  endeavor  it  for  the  future.  Make  it  your  desire  and  daily 
business,  and  spare  not  still.  Lie  not  complaining,  but  rouse  up 
your  soul,  and  see  what  is  amiss,  and  set  upon  neglected  duties, 
and  remove  those  corruptions  that  hinder  your  growth.  Converse 
with  growing  Christians,  and  under  quickening  means ;  endeavor 
the  good  of  other  men's  souls  as  well  as  your  own ;  and  then  you 
will  find  that  growth  which  will  silence  this  doubt,  and  do  much 
more  for  you  than  that. 

Doubt  17.  'I  am  troubled  with  such  blasphemous  thoughts  and 
temptations  to  unbelief,  even  against  God,  and  Christ,  and  Scrip- 
ture, and  the  life  to  come,  that  I  doubt  I  have  no  faith.' 

Atisw.  To  be  tempted  is  no  sign  of  gracelessness,  but  to  yield 
to  the  temptation;  not  every  yielding  neither,  but  to  be  overcome 
of  the  temptation.  Most  melancholy  people,  especially  that  have 
any  knowledge  in  religion,  are  fi-equently  haunted  with  blasphemous 
temptations.  I  have  oft  wondered  that  the  devil  should  have  such 
a  power  and  advantage  in  the  predominancy  of  that  distemper. 
Scarce  one  person  of  ten,  who  ever  was  with  me  in  deep  melan- 
choly, either  for  the  cure  of  body  or  mind,  but  hath  been  haunted 
with  these  blasphemous  thoughts ;  and  that  so  impetuously  and 
violently  set  on  and  followed,  that  it  might  appear  to  be  from  the 
devil ;  yea,  even  many  that  never  seemed  godly,  or  to  mind  any 
such  thing  before.  I  confess  it  hath  been  a  strengthening  to  my 
own  faith,  to  see  the  devil  such  an  enemy  to  the  Christian  faith ; 
yea,  to  the  Godhead  itself. 

But  perhaps  you  will  say,  '  It  is  not  mere  temptation  from  Satan 
that  I  complain  of;  but  it  takes  too  much  with  my  sinful  heart.  I 
am  ready  to  doubt  ofttimes  whether  there  be  a  God,  or  whether  his 
providence  determine  of  the  things  here  below  ;  or  whether  Scrip- 
ture be  true,  or  the  soul  immortal,'  he. 

Ansiv.  This  is  a  very  great  sin,  and  you  ought  to  bewail  and 
abhor  it,  and,  in  the  name  of  God,  make  not  light  of  it,  but  look  to 


440        DLRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

it  betime.  But  yet  let  me  tell  you,  that  some  degree  of  this  blas- 
phemy and  infidelity  may  remain  with  the  truest  saving  faith.  The 
best  may  say,  "  Lord,  I  beheve,  help  thou  mine  unbelief."  But  I 
will  tell  you  my  judgment.  When  your  unbelief  is  such  as  to  be 
a  sign  of  a  graceless  soul  in  the  state  of  damnation  ;  if  your  doubt- 
ings  of  the  truth  of  Scripture  and  the  life  to  come,  be  so  great  that 
you  will  not  let  go  the  pleasures  and  profits  of  sin,  and  part  with 
all  if  God  call  you  to  it,  in  hope  of  that  glory  promised,  and  to 
escape  the  judgment  threatened,  becaiise  you  look  upon  the  things 
of  the  life  to  come  but  as  uncertain  things ;  then  is  your  belief  no 
saving  belief;  but  your  unbelief  is  prevalent.  But  if  for  all  your 
staggerings,  you  see  so  much  probability  of  the  truth  of  Scripture 
and  the  life  to  come,  that  you  are  resolved  to  venture  (and  part 
with,  if  called  to  it)  all  worldly  hopes  and  happiness  for  the  hope 
of  that  promised  glory,  and  to  make  it  the  chiefest  business  of  your 
life  to  attain  it,  and  do  deny  yourself  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  that 
end ;  this  is  a  true  saving  faith,  as  is  evident  by  its  victory ;  not- 
withstanding all  the  infidelity,  atheism,  and  blasphemy  that  is  mix- 
ed with  it. 

But  again,  let  me  advise  you  to  take  heed  of  this  heinous  sin, 
and  bewail  and  detest  tlie  very  least  degree  of  it.  It  is  dangerous 
when  the  devil  strikes  at  the  very  root,  and  heart,  and  foundation 
of  all  your  religion.  There  is  more  sinfulness  and  danger  in  this 
than  in  many  other  sins.  And  therefore  let  it  never  be  motioned 
to  your  soul  without  abhorrence.  Two  ways  the  devil  hath  to 
move  it.  The  one  is  by  his  hnmediate  inward  suggestions ;  these 
are  bad  enough.  The  other  is  by  his  accursed  instruments ;  and 
this  is  a  far  more  dangerous  w^ay  ;  w^hether  it  be  by  books,  or  by  the 
words  of  men.  And  yet  if  it  be  by  notorious  wicked  men,  or  fools, 
the  temptation  is  the  less ;  but  when  it  is  by  men  of  cunning  wit, 
and  smooth  tongues,  and  hypocritical  lives,  (for  far  be  that  w  icked- 
ness  from  me,  as  to  call  them  godly,  or  wise,  or  honest,)  then  it  is 
the  greatest  snare  the  devil  hath  to  lay.  O  just  and  dreadful  God  I 
Did  I  think  one  day  that  those  that  I  was  then  praying  with  and 
rejoicing  with,  and  that  went  up  with  me  to  the  house  of  God  in 
familiarity,  would  this  day  be  blasphemers  of  thy  sacred  name,  and 
deny  the  Lord  that  bought  them,  and  deride  thy  holy  word  as  a 
fable,  and  give  up  themselves  to  the  present  pleasures  of  sin,  be- 
cause they  believe  not  thy  promised  glory  ?  O  righteous  and 
merciful  God,  that  hast  preserved  the  humble  from  this  condem- 
nation, and  hast  permitted  only  the  proud  and  sensual  professors  to 
fall  into  it,  and  hast  given  them  over  to  hellish  conversations  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  then-  hellish  opinions,  that  they  might 
be  rather  a  terror  to  others  than  a  snare  !  I  call  their  doctrine  and 
practice  hellish,  from  its  original,  because  it  comes  fi'om  the  father 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  441 

of  lies,  but  not  that  there  is  any  such  opinion  or  practice  in  hell.  He 
that  tempts  others  to  deny  the  Godhead,  the  Christian  faith,  the 
Scripture,  the  life  to  come,  doth  no  whit  doubt  of  any  one  of 
them  himself,  but  believes  and  trembles.  O  fearful  bhndness  of 
the  professors  of  religion,  that  will  hear,  if  not  receive  these  blasphe- 
mies from  the  mouth  of  an  apostate  professor,  which  they  would 
abhor  if  it  came  immediately  irom  the  devil  himself.  With  what 
sad  complaints  and  tremblings  do  poor  sinners  cry  out,  (and  not 
without  cause,)  '  O,  1  am  haunted  with  such  blasphemous  tempta- 
tions, that  I  am  afraid  lest  God  should  suddenly  destroy  me,  that 
ever  such  thoughts  should  come  into  my  heart.'  But  if  an  instru- 
ment of  the  devil  come  and  plead  against  the  Scripture,  or  the  hfe 
to  come,  or  Christ  himself,  they  will  hear  him  with  less  detestation. 
The  devil  knows  that  familiarity  will  cause  us  to  take  tkat  from  a 
man,  which  we  would  abhor  from  the  devil  himself  immediately. 
1  intend  not  to  give  you  now  a  particular  preservation  against  each 
of  these  temptations.  Only  let  me  tell  you,  that  this  is  the  direct 
way  to  infidelity,  apostasy,  and  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost ; 
and  if  by  any  seducers  the  devil  do  overcome  you  herein,  you  are 
lost  forever,  and  there  will  be  no  more  sacrifice  for  your  sin,  but  a 
fearful  expectation  of  judgment,  and  that  fire  which  shall  devour 
the  adversaries  of  Christ. 

Doubt  18.  '1  have  so  great  fear  of  death,  and  unwillingness  to 
be  with  God,  that  I  am  afraid  I  have  no  grace ;  for  if  I  had  Paul's 
spirit,  I  should  be  able  to  say  with  him,  "  I  desire  to  depart  and  be 
with  Christ ; "  whereas  now,  no  news  would  be  to  me  more  unwel- 
come.' 

Ansio.  There  is  a  loathness  to  die  that  comes  from  a  desire  to 
do  God  more  service  ;  and  another  that  comes  from  an  apprehen- 
sion of  unreadiness,  when  we  would  fain  have  more  assurance  of 
salvation  first,  or  would  be  fitter  to  meet  our  Lord.  Blame  not  a 
man  to  be  somewhat  backward,  that  knows  it  must  go  with  him  for- 
ever in  heaven  or  hell,  according  as  he  is  found  at  death.  But 
these  two  be  not  so  much  a  loathness  to  die,  as  a  loathness  to  die 
now  at  this  time.  There  is  also  in  all  men  living,  good  and  bad,  a 
natural  abhorrence  and  fear  of  death.  God  hath  put  this  into 
men's  nature  (even  in  innocency)  to  be  his  great  means  of  govern- 
ing the  world.  No  man  would  live  in  order,  or  be  kept  in  obedi- 
ence, but  for  this.  He  that  cares  not  for  his  own  life  is  master  of 
another's.  Grace  doth  not  root  out  this  abhorrence  of  death,  no 
more  than  it  unmanneth  us ;  only  it  restrains  it  from  excess,  and 
so  far  overcometh  the  violence  of  the  passion,  by  the  apprehen- 
sions of  a  better  life  beyond  death,  that  a  believer  may  the  more 
quietly  and  vvilhngly  submit  to  it.  Paul  himself  desireth  not  death, 
but  the  life  which  followeth  it.  "  He  desireth  to  depart  and  be 
VOL.  I.  56 


♦ 


442        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

with  Christ ; "  that  is,  he  had  rather  be  in  heaven  than  on  earth, 
and  therefore  he  is  contented  to  submit  to  the  penal  sharp  pas- 
sage. God  doth  not  command  you  to  desire  death  itself,  nor  for- 
bid you  fearing  it  as  an  evil  to  nature,  and  a  punishment  of  sin. 
Only  he  requireth  you  to  desire  the  blessedness  to  be  enjoyed  after 
death,  and  that  so  earnestly  as  may  make  death  itself  the  easier  to 
you.  Thank  God,  if  the  fear  of  death  be  somewhat  abated  in  you, 
though  it  be  not  sweetened.  Men  may  pretend  what  they  please, 
but  nature  will  abhor  death  as  long  as  it  is  nature,  and  as  long  as 
man  is  man ;  else  temporal  death  had  been  no  punishment  to 
Adam,  if  his  innocent  nature  had  not  abhorred  it  as  it  was  an  evil 
•  to  it.     Tell   me  but  this,  if  death  did  not  stand  in  your  way  to 

heaven,  but  that  you  could  travel  to  heaven  as  easily  as  to  London, 
would  notion  rather  go  thither,  and  be  with  Christ,  than  stay  in  sin 
and  vanity  here  on  earth,  so  be  it  you  were  certain  to  be  with 
Christ  ?  If  you  can  say  yea  to  this,  then  it  is  apparent  that  your 
loathness  to  die  is  either  from  the  uncertainty  of  your  salvation,  or 
from  the  natural  averseness  to  a  dissolution,  or  both,  and  not  from 
an  unwillingness  to  be  with  Christ,  or  a  preferring  the  vanities  of 
this  world  before  the  blessedness  of  that  to'come.  Lastly,  It  may 
be  God  may  lay  that  affliction  on  you,  or  use  some  other  necessary 
means  with  you  yet,  before  you  die,  that  may  make  you  more  will- 
ing than  now  you  are. 

Doubt  19.  '  God  layeth  upon  me  such  heavy  afflictions,  that  I 
cannot  believe  he  loves  me.  He  writeth  bitter  things  against  me, 
and  taketh  me  for  his  enemy.  I  am  afflicted  in  my  health,  in  my 
name,  in  my  children,  and  nearest  friends,  and  in  my  estate.  I 
live  in  continual  poverty,  or  pinching  distress  of  one  kind  or  other; 
yea,  my  very  soul  is  filled  with  his  terrors,  and  night  and  day  is 
his  hand  heavy  upon  me.' 

Ansiv.  I  have  said  enough  to  this  before,  nor  do  I  think  it  need- 
ful to  say  any  more,  when  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  said  so  much ; 
but  only  to  desire  you  to  read  what  be  hath  written  in  Heb.  xii. 
and  Job  throughout;  and  Psal.  xxxvii.  Ixxiii.,  and  divers  others. 
The  next  doubt  is  contrary. 

Doubt  20.  'I  read  in  Scripture,  that  through  many  tribulations 
we  must  enter  into  heaven,  and  that  all  that  will  live  godly  in 
Christ  Jesus,  must  suffer  persecution ;  and  that  he  that  taketh  not 
up  his  cross,  and  so  foUoweth  Christ,  cannot  be  his  disciple.  And 
that  if  we  are  not  corrected,  we  are  bastards,  and  not  sons.  But 
I  never  had  any  affliction  from  God,  but  have  lived  in  constant 
prosperity  to  this  day.  Christ  saith,  "  Woe  to  you,  when  all  men 
speak  well  of  you."  But  all  men,  for  aught  I  know,  speak  well 
of  me  ;  and  therefore  I  doubt  of  my  sincerity.' 

Answ.  I  would  not  have  mentioned  this  doubt,  but  that  I  was 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  443 

SO  foolish  as  to  be  troubled  with  it  myself;  and  j)eihaps  some 
others  may  be  as  foolish  as  1 ;  though  I  think  but  few  in  these 
times ;  our  great  friends  have  done  so  much  to  resolve  them  more 
effectually  than  words  could  have  done.  1 .  Some  of  the  texts 
speak  only  of  man's  duty  of  bearing  persecution  and  tribulation, 
when  God  lays  it  on  us,  rather  than  of  the  event,  that  it  shall  cer- 
tainly come.  2.  Yet  I  think  it  ordinarily  certain,  and  to  be  ex- 
pected as  to  the  event.  Doubtless  tribulation  is  God's  common 
road  to  heaven.  Every  ignorant  person  is  so  well  aware  of  this, 
that  they  delude  themselves  in  their  sufferings,  saying,  that  God 
hath  given  them  their  punishment  in  this  life,  and  therefore  they 
hope  he  will  not  punish  them  in  another.  If  any  soul  be  so  silly 
as  to  fear  and  doubt  for  want  of  affliction,  if  none  else  will  do  the 
cure,  let  them  follow  my  counsel,  and  I  dare  warrant  them  for  this, 
and  I  will  advise  them  to  nothing  but  what  is  honest,  yea,  and  ne- 
cessary, and  what  I  have  tried  effectually  upon  myself;  and  I  can 
assure  you  it  cured  me,  and  I  can  give  it  a  '  Probatum  est.'  And 
first,  see  that  you  be  faithful  in  your  duty  to  all  sinners  within  your 
reach ;  be  they  great  or  small,  gentlemen  or  beggars,  do  your  duty 
in  reproving  them  meekly  and  lovingly,  yet  plainly  and  seriously, 
telling  them  of  the  danger  of  God's  everlasting  wrath ;  and  when 
you  find  them  obstinate,  tell  the  church-ofticers  of  them,  that  they 
may  do  their  duty ;  and  if  yet  they  are  unre formed,  they  may  be 
excluded  from  the  church's  communion,  and  all  Christian  familiar- 
ity. Try  this  course  awhile,  and  if  you  meet  with  no  afflictions, 
and  get  no  more  fists  about  your  ears  than  your  own,  nor  more 
tongues  against  you  tlian  formerly,  tell  me  I  am  mistaken.  Men 
basely  balk  and  shun  almost  all  the  displeasing,  ungrateful  work 
of  Christianity  of  purpose,  lest  they  should  have  sufferings  in  the 
flesh ;  and  then  they  doubt  of  their  sincerity  for  want  of  sufferings. 
My  second  advice  is.  Do  but  stay  awhile  in  patience,  (but  prepare 
your  patience  for  a  sharper  encounter,)  and  do  not  tie  God  to  your 
time.  He  hath  not  told  you  when  your  afflictions  shall  come.  If 
he  deal  easier  with  you  than  with  others,  and  give  you  longer  time 
to  prepare  for  them,  be  not  you  offended  at  that,  and  do  not  quar- 
rel with  your  mercies.  It  is  about  seventeen  years  since  I  was 
troubled  with  this  doubt,  thinking  I  was  no  son,  because  I  was  not 
afflicted  ;  and  I  think  I  have  had  few  days  without  pain  for  this 
sixteen  years  since  together,  nor  but  few  hours,  if  any  one,  for  this 
six  or  seven  years.     And  thus  my  scruple  is  removed. 

And  if  yet  any  be  troubled  whh  this  doubt,  if  the  church's  and 
common  trouble  be  any  trouble  to  them,  shall  I  be  bold  to  tell 
them  my  thoughts?  (only  understand  that  I  pretend  not  to  proph- 
esy, but  to  conjecture  at  effects  by  the  position  of  their  moral 
causes.)     I  think  that  the  righteous   King  of  saints  is  even  now, 


/ 


444        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

for  our  over-admiring,  rash  zeal,  and  sharp,  high  profession,  making 
for  England  so  heavy  an  affliction,  and  a  sharp  scom-ge,  to  be  in- 
flicted by  seduced,  proud,  self-conceited  professors,  as  neither  we 
nor  our  fathers  did  ever  yet  bear.  Except  it  should  prove  the 
merciful  intent  of  our  Father,  only  to  suffer  them  to  ripen  for  their 
own  destruction,  to  be  a  standing  monument  for  the  effectual  warn- 
ing of  all  after-ages  of  the  church,  whither  pride  and  heady  zeal 
may  bring  professors  of  holiness.  And  when  they  are  fuU  ripe,  to 
do  by  them  as  at  Munster  and  in  New  England,  that  they  may  go  no 
further,  but  their  folly  may  be  known  to  all :  Amen.  I  have  told 
you  of  my  thoughts  of  this  long  ago,  in  my  Book  of  Baptism. 

All  these  doubts  I  have  here  answered,  that  you  may  see  how 
necessary  it  is,  that  in  all  your  troubles  you  be  sure  to  distinguish 
between  matter  of  doubting  and  matter  of  humiliation.  Alas', 
what  soul  is  so  holy  on  the  earth,  but  must  daily  say,  "  Forgive 
us  our  trespasses  !"  and  cry  out  with  Paul,  "  O  wretched  man  that 
I  am,  who  shall  dehver  me  from  this  body  of  death!"  But  at  the 
same  time  we  may  thank  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  If 
every  sin  should  make  us  doubt,  we  should  do  nothing  but  doubt. 
I  know  you  may  easily  tell  a  long  and  a  sad  story  of  your  sins  ; 
how  you  are  troubled  with  this  and  that,  and  many  a  distemper, 
and  weak  and  wanting  in  every  grace  and  duty,  and  have  commit- 
ted many  sins.  But  doth  it  follow  that  therefore  you  have  no  true 
grace  ?  Learn  therefore  to  be  humbled  for  every  sin,  but  not  to 
doubt  of  your  sincerity  and  salvation  for  every  sin. 

Direct.  XXX.  '  Whatsoever  new  doubtings  do  arise  in  your 
soul,  see  that  you  carefully  discern  whether  they  are  such  as  must 
be  resolved  from  the  consideration  of  general  grace,  or  of  special 
grace.  And  especially  be  sure  of  this,  that  when  you  want  or 
lose  your  certainty  of  sincerity  and  salvation,  you  have  presently 
recourse  to  the  probabihty  of  it,  and  lose  not  the  comforts  of  that. 
Or  if  you  should  lose  the  sight  of  a  probability  of  special  grace, 
yet  see  that  you  have  recourse,  at  the  utmost,  to  general  grace,  and 
never  let  go  the  comforts  of  that  at  the  worst.' 

This  rule  is  of  unspeakable  necessity  and  use  for  your  peace 
and  comfort.  Here  are  three  several  degrees  of  the  grounds  of 
comfort.  It  is  exceeding  weakness  for  a  man  that  is  beaten  from 
one  of  these  holds,  therefore  to  let  go  the  otlier  two.  And  be- 
cause he  cannot  have  the  highest  degree,  therefore  to  conclude  that 
he  hath  none  at  all. 

I  beseech  you,  in  all  your  doubtings  and  complainings,  still  re- 
member the  two  rules  here  laid  down.  I.  All  doubts  arise  not 
fi-om  the  same  cause,  and  therefore  must  not  have  the  same  cure. 
Let  the  first  thing  which  you  do,  upon  every  doubt,  be  this :  to  con- 
sider, whether  it  come  from  the  unbelieving  or  low  apprehensions 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  445 

of  the  general  grounds  of  comfort,  or  from  the  want  of  evidence 
of  special  grace.  For  that  which  is  a  (it  remedy  for  one  of  these, 
will  do  little  for  the  cure  of  the  other.  2.  If  your  doubting  be 
only,  Whether  you  be  sincere  in  believing,  loving,  hoping,  repent- 
ing, and  obeying,  then  it  will  not  answer  this  doubt,  though  you 
discern  never  so  much  of  God's  merciful  nature,  or  Christ's  gra- 
cious office,  or  the  universal  sufficiency  of  his  death  and  satisfac- 
tion, or  the  freeness  and  extent  of  the  promise  of  pardon.  For  1 
profess  considerately,  that  I  do  not  know  in  all  the  body  of  Popery 
concerning  merits,  justification,  human  satisfaction,  assurance,  or 
any  other  point  about  grace,  for  which  we  unchurch  them,  that 
they  err  half  so  dangerously  as  Saitmai'sh  and  such  Antinomians 
do  in  this  point,  when  they  say,  that  Christ  hath  repented  and  be- 
lieved for  us ;  meaning  it  of  that  faith  and  repentance  which  he 
hath  made  the  conditions  of  our  salvation.  And  that  we  must  no 
more  question  our  own  faith,  than  we  must  question  Christ,  the 
object  of  it.  It  will  be  no  saving  plea  at  the  day  of  judgment  to 
say,  Though  I  repented  not  and  believed  not,  yet  Christ  died  for 
me,  or  God  is  merciful,  or  Christ  repented  and  believed  for  me, 
or  God  made  me  a.  free  promise  and  gift  of  salvation,  if  I  would 
repent  and  believe.  What  comfort  would  such  an  answer  give 
them?  And  therefore,  doubtless,  it  will  not  serve  now  to  quiet 
any  knowing  Christian  against  those  doubts  that  arise  from  the 
want  of  particular  evidence  of  special  grace,  though  in  their  own 
place,  the  general  grounds  of  comfort  are  of  absolute  necessity 
thereto. 

2.  On  the  other  side,  if  your  doubts  arise  from  any  defect  in 
your  apprehensions  of  general  grace,  it  is  not  your  looking  after 
marks  in  yourself  that  is  the  way  to  resolve  them.  I  told  you  in 
the  beginning,  that  the  general  grounds  of  comfort  lie  in  four  par- 
ticulars, (that  square  foundation  which  will  bear  up  all  the  faith 
of  the  saints.)  First,  God's  merciful  and  inconceivable  good  and 
gracious  nature,  and  his  love  to  mankind.  Secondly,  The  gi-acious 
nature  of  the  Mediator  God  and  Man,  with  his  most  gracious,  un- 
dertaken office  of  saving  and  reconciling.  Thirdly,  The  sufficien- 
cy of  Christ's  death  and  satisfaction  for  all  the  world,  to  save  them 
if  they  will  accept  him  and  his  grace.  I  put  it  in  terms  beyond 
dispute,  because  I  would  not  build  up  believer's  comforts  on  points 
which  godly  divines  do  contradict,  (as  little  as  may  be.)  Yet  I 
am  past  all  doubt  myself,  that  Christ  did  actually  make  satisfaction 
to  God's  justice  for  all,  and  that  no  man  perisheth  for  want  of  an 
expiatory  sacrifice,  but  for  want  of  faith  to  believe  and  apply  it, 
or  for  want  of  repentance  and  yielding  to  recovering  grace.  The 
fourth  is,  The  universal  gi'ant  of  pardon,  and  right  to  salvation,  on 
condition  of  faitii  and  repentance.     If  your  doubt  arise  from  the 


446        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

ignorance  or  overlooking  of  any  of  these,  to  these  must  you  have 
recourse  for  your  cure. 

Where,  note.  That  all  those  doubts  which  come  from  the  great- 
ness of  your  sin,  as  such  that  you  think  will  not  therefore  be  for- 
given, or  that  come  from  the  sense  of  unworthiness,  (in  a  legal 
sense,)  or  want  of  merit  in  yourself,  and  all  your  doubts  whether 
God  be  willing  to'  accept  and  forgive  you,  though  you  should  re- 
pent and  believe ;  or  whether  any  sacrifice  was  offered  by  Christ 
for  your  sins ;  I  say,  all  these  come  from  your  ignorance  or  unbe- 
lief of  some  or  all  of  the  four  general  grounds  here  mentioned ; 
and  from  them  must  be  cured. 

Note,  also,  in  a  special  manner.  That  there  is  a  great  difference 
between  these  four  general  grounds,  and  your  particular  evidences, 
m  point  of  certainty.  For  these  four  corner-stones  are  fast  found- 
ed beyond  all  possibility  of  removal,  so  that  they  are  always  of  as 
undoubted,  certainty  as  that  the  heaven  is  over  your  head ;  and  they 
are  immutable,  still  the  same.  These  you  are  commanded  strictly 
to  believe  with  a  divine  faith,  as  being  the  clearly-revealed  truths 
of  God ;  and  if  you  should  not  believe  them,  yet  they  remain  firm 
and  true,  and  your  unbelief  should  not  make  void  the  universal 
promise  and  grace  of  God.  But  your  own  evidences  of  special 
grace  are  not  so  certain,  so  clear,  or  so  immutable ;  nor  are  you 
bound  to  believe  them,  but  to  search  after  them  that  you  may  know 
them.  You  are  not  bound  by  any  word  of  God  strictly  to  believe 
that  you  do  believe,  or  repent,  but  to  try  and  discern  it.  This, 
then,  is  the  first  part  of  this  Direction,  That  you  always  discover 
whether  your  troubles  arise  from  low  unbelieving,  or  ignorant 
thoughts  of  God's  mercifulness,  Christ's  gracious  nature  and  office, 
general  satisfaction,  or  the  universal  promise ;  or  whether  they 
arise  from  want  of  evidence  of  sincerity  in  yourself.  And  accord- 
ingly in  your  thoughts  apply  the  remedy. 

The  second  part  of  the  Direction  is.  That  you  hold  fast  probabili- 
ties of  special  grace,  when  you  lose  your  certainty,  and  that  you 
hold  fast  your  general  grounds,  when  you  lose  both  your  former. 
Never  forget  this  in  any  of  your  doubts. 

You  say,  your  faith  and  obedience  have  such  breaches  and  sad 
defects  in  them,  that  you  cannot  be  certain  that  they  are  sincere. 
Suppose  it  be  so  ;  do  you  see  no  great  likelihood  or  hopes  yet  that 
they  are  sincere  ?  If  you  do,  (as  I  think  many  Christians  easily 
may,  that  yet  receive  not  a  proportionable  comfort,)  remember 
that  this  is  no  small  mercy,  but  matter  of  great  consolation. 

But  suppose  the  worst,  that  you  see  no  grace  in  yourself,  yet 
you  ^cannot  be  sure  you  have  none  ;  for  it  may  be  there,  and  you 
not  see  it.  Yea,  suppose  the  worst,  that  you  were  sure  that  you 
had  no  true  grace  at  all,  yet  remember  that  you  have  still  abun- 


SPIRITUAL   PEACE    ANB    COMFORT.  447 

dant  cause  of  comfort  in  God's  general  grace.  Do  you  think  you 
must  needs  despair,  or  give  up  all  hope  and  comfort,  or  conclude 
yourself  irrecoverably  lost,  because  you  are  graceless  ?  Why,  be 
it  known  to  you,  there  is  that  ground  of  consolation  in  general  grace, 
that  may  make  the  hearts  of  the  very  wicked  to  leap  for  joy.  Do 
I  need  to  prove  that  to  you  ?  You  know  that  the  gospel  is  called 
"  Glad  tidings  of  salvation,"  and  the  preachers  of  it  are  to  tell  those 
to  whom  they  preach  it,  "  Behold,  we  bring  you  tidings  of  great 
joy,  and  glad  tidings  to  all  people."  And  you  know  before  the 
gospel  comes  to  men,  they  are  miserable.  If,  then,  it  be  glad  tidings, 
and  tidings  of  great  joy  to  all  the  unconverted  where  it  comes,  why 
should  it  not  be  so  to  you  ?  And  where  is  your  great  joy  ?  If  you 
be  graceless,  is  it  nothing  to  know  that  God  is  exceeding  merciful, 
"  slow  to  anger,  ready  to  forgive,  pardoning  iniquities,  transgression, 
and  sin,"  loving  mankind?  Is  it  nothing  to  know  that  the  Lord 
hath  brought  infinite  mercy  and  goodness  down  into  human  Sesh  ? 
and  hath  taken  on  him  the  most  blessed  office  of  reconciling,  and 
is  become  the  Lamb  of  God  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  you,  that  uli 
your  sins  have  a  sufficient  sacrifice  paid  for  them,  so  that  you  ar? 
certain  not  to  perish  for  want  of  a  ransom  ?  Is  it  nothing  to  yoUj 
that  God  hath  made  such  an  universal  grant  of  pardon  and  salva- 
tion to  all  that  will  believe?  and  that  you  are  not  on  the  terms  of 
the  mere  law  of  works,  to  be  judged  for  not  obeying  in  perfection  ? 
Suppose  you  are  never  so  certainly  graceless,  is  it  not  a  ground  of 
unspeakable  comfort,  that  you  may  be  certain  that  nothing  can  con- 
demn you,  but  a  flat  refusal  or  unwillingness  to  have  Christ  and 
his  salvation  ?  This  is  a  certain  tmth,  which  may  comfort  a  man 
as  yet  unsanctified,  that  sin  merely  as  sin  shall  not  condemn  him, 
nor  any  thing  in  the  world,  but  the  final,  obstinate  refusal  of  the 
remedy,  which  "thereby  leaveth  all  other  sin  unpardoned. 

Now,  I  would  ask  you  this  question  in  your  greatest  fears  that 
you  are  out  of  Christ :  Are  you  willing  to  have  Christ  to  pardon, 
sanctify,  guide,  and  save  you,  or  not?  If  you  are,  then  you  are  a 
true  believer,  and  did  not  know  it.  If  you  are  not,  if  you  will  but 
wait  on  God's  word  in  hearing,  and  reading,  and  consider  frequent- 
ly and  seriously  of  the  necessity  and  excellency  of  Christ  and  glory, 
and  the  evil  of  sin  and  the  vanity  of  the  world,  and  will  but  beg 
earnestly  of  God  to  make  you  willing,  you  shall  find  that  God  hath 
not  appointed  you  this  means  in  vain,  and  that  this  way  will  be 
more  profitable  to  you  than  all  your  complainings.  See,  therefore, 
when  you  are  at  the  very  lowest,  that  you  forsake  not  the  comforts 
of  general  grace. 

And,  indeed,  those  that  deny  any  general  grace  or  redemption, 
do  leave  poor  Christians  in  a  very  lamentable  condition.  For,  alas  1 
assurance  of  special  grace   (yea,  or  a  high  probability)   is  not  so 


448  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

coraiuon  a  thing  as  mere  disputers  against  doubtmg  have  imagined. 
And  when  a  poor  Christian  is  beaten  from  his  assurance,  (which 
few  have,)  he  hath  nothing  but  probabihties ;  and  when  he  hath 
no  confident,  probable  persuasion  of  special  grace,  where  is  he 
then  ?  And  what  hath  he  left  to  support  his  soul  ?  I  will  not  so 
far  now  meddle  with  that  controversy,  as  to  open  further  how  this 
opinion  tends  to  leave  most  Christians  in  desperation,  for  all  the 
pretenses  it  hath  found.  And  I  had  done  more,  but  that  general 
redemption  or  satisfaction  is  commonly  taught  in  the  maintaining 
of  the  general  sufficiency  of  it,  though  men  understand  not  how 
they  contradict  themselves. 

But  perhaps  you  will  say,  '  This  is  cold  comfort ;  for  I  may  as 
well  argue  thus,  Christ  will  damn  sinners  ;  I  am  a  sinner,  therefore 
he  will  damn  me ;  as  to  argue  thus,  Christ  will  save  sinners ;  I  am 
a  sinner,  therefore  he  will  save  me.'  I  answer.  There  is  no  show 
of  soundness  in  either  of  these  arguments.  It  is  not  a  certainty 
that  Christ  will  save  you,  that  can  be  gathered  from  general  grace 
alone ;  that  must  be  had  from  assurance  of  special  grace  super- 
added to  the  general.  But  a  conditional  certainty  you  may  have 
from  general  grace  only,  and  thus  you  may  soundly  and  infallibly 
argue,  '  God  hath  made  a  grant  to  every  sinful  man  of  pardon  and 
salvation  through  Christ's  sacrifice,  if  they  \\\\\  but  repent  and  be- 
lieve in  Christ ;  but  I  am  a  sinful  man,  therefore  God  hath  made 
this  grant  of  pardon  and  salvation  to  me.' 

Direct.  XXXI.  '  If  God  do  bless  you  wath  an  able,  faithful, 
prudent,  judicious  pastor,  take  him  for  your  guide  under  Christ  in 
the  way  to  salvation  ;  and  open  to  him  your  case,  and  desire  his  ad- 
vice in  all  your  extraordinary,  pressing  necessities,  where  you  have 
found  the  advice  of  other  godly  friends  to  be  insufficient ;  and  this 
not  once  or  twice  only,  but  as  often  as  such  pressing  necessities 
shall  return.  Or  if  your  own  pastor  be  more  defective  for  such  a 
work,  make  use  of  some  other  minister  of  Christ,  who  is  more 
meet.' 

Here  I  have  these  several  things  to  open  to  you.  1.  That  it  is 
your  duty  to  seek  this  Direction  from  the  guides  of  the  church.  2. 
When  and  in  what  cases  you  should  do  this.  3.  To  what  end,  and 
how  far.  4.  What  ministers  they  be  that  you  should  choose  there- 
to. 5.  In  what  manner  you  must  open  your  case,  that  you  may 
receive  satisfaction. 

1.  The  first  hath  two  parts,  (1.)  That  you  must  open  your 
case.  (2.)  And  that  to  your  pastor.  (1.)  The  devil  hath  great 
advantage  while  you  keep  his  counsel ;  two  are  better  than  one  ;  for 
if  one  of  them  fall,  he  hath  another  to  help  him.  It  is  dangerous 
resisting  such  an  enemy  alone.  An  uniting  of  forces  oft  procureth 
victory.     God  giveth  others  knowledge,  prudence  and  other  gifts 


SP;UITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  449. 

for  our  good  ;  that  so  every  member  of  the  body  may  have  need 
of  another,  and  each  be  useful  to  the  other.  An  independency  ol 
Christian  upon  Christian,  is  most  unchristian  ;  much  more  of  peo- 
ple on  their  guides.  It  ceaseth  to  be  a  member,  which  is  sepa- 
rated from  the  body ;  and  to  make  no  use  of  the  body  or  fellow- 
members,  is  next  to  separation  from  them.  Sometimes  bashful- 
ness  is  the  cause,  sometimes  self-confidence,  (a  far  worse  cause ;) 
but  whatever  is  the  cause  of  Christians  smothering  their  doubts,  the 
effects  are  oft  sad.  The  disease  is  oft  gone  so  far,  that  the  cure  is 
very  difficult,  before  some  bashful,  or  proud,  or  tender  patients 
will  open  their  disease.  The  very  opening  of  a  man's  grief  to  a 
faithful  friend  doth  oft  ease  the  heart  of  itself.  (2.)  And  that  this 
should  be  done  to  your  pastor,  I  will  show  you  anon. 

2.  But  you  must  understand  well  when  this  is  your  duty.  (1.) 
Not  in  every  small  infirmity,  which  accompanies  Christians  in  their 
daily  most  watchful  conversation.  Nor  yet  in  every  lesser  doubt, 
which  may  be  otherwise  resolved.  It  is  a  folly  and  a  wrong  to 
physicians  to  run  to  them  for  every  cut  finger  or  prick  with  a  pin. 
Every  neighbor  can  help  you  in  this.  (2.)  Nor  except  it  be  a 
weighty  case  indeed,  go  not  first  to  a  minister.  But  first  study 
the  case  yourself,  and  seek  God's  direction :  if  that  will  not  serve, 
open  your  case  to  your  nearest  bosom  friend  that  is  godly  and  judi- 
cious. (3.)  And  in  these  two  cases  always  go  to  your  pastor.  In 
case  more  private  means  can  do  you  no  good,  then  God  calls  you 
to  seek  further.  If  a  cut  finger  so  fester  that  ordinary  means  will 
not  cure  it,  you  must  go  to  the  physician,  if  the  case  be  weighty 
and  dangerous ;  for  then  none  but  the  more  prudent  advice  is  to  be 
trusted.  If  you  be  struck  with  a  dangerous  disease,  I  would  not 
have  you  delay  so  long,  nor  wrong  yourself  so  much,  as  to  stay 
while  you  tamper  with  every  woman's  medicine,  but  go  presently 
to  the  physician.  So,  if  you  either  fall  into  any  grievous  sin,  or 
any  terrible  pangs  of  conscience,  or  any  great  straits  and  dif- 
ficulties about  matters  of  doctrine  or  practice,  go  presently  to  your 
pastor  for  advice.  The  devil,  and  pride,  and  bashfulness,  will  do 
their  utmost  to  hinder  you  ;  but  see  that  they  prevail  not.     ■ 

3.  Next  consider  to  what  end  you  must  do  this.  Not,  (1.)  Ei- 
ther to  expect  that  a  minister  can  of  himself  create  peace  in  you  ; 
or  that  all  your  doubts  should  vanish  as  soon  as  ever  you  have 
opened  your  mind.  Only  the  great  Peace-maker,  the  Prince  of 
peace,  can  create  peace  in  you  :  ascribe  not  to  any  the  office  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  to  be  your  effectual  comforter.  To  expect  more  from 
man  than  belongs  to  man,  is  the  way  to  receive  nothing  from  him, 
but  to  cause  God  to  blast  to  you  the  best  endeavors.  (2.)  Nor 
must  you  resolve  to  take  all  merely  from  the  word  of  your  pastor, 
as  if  he  were  infallible ;  nor  absolutely  to  judge  of  yourself  as  he 

VOL.  I.  57 


.450  DII^ECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

judgeth.  For  he  may  be  too  rigorous,  or  mere  commonly  too  char- 
itable in  his  opinion  of  you  :  there  may  be  much  of  your  disposi- 
tion and  conversation  unknown  to  him,  which  may  hinder  his  right 
judging.  But,  (1.)  you  must  use  your  pastor  as  the  ordained  in- 
strument and  messenger  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  his  Spirit,  appointed 
to  speak  a  word  in  season  to  the  weary,  and  to  show  to  man  his 
righteousness,  and  to  strengthen  the  weak  hands  and  feeble  knees ; 
yea,  and  more,  to  bind  and  loose  on  earth,  as  Christ  doth  bind  and 
loose  in  heaven.  As  Christ  and  his  Spirit  do  only  save  in  the 
principal  place,  and  yet  ministers  save  souls  in  subordination  to 
them  as  his  insti-uments,  (Acts  xxvi.  17,  18..  1  Tim.  iv.  15, 
16.  James  v.  20,)  so  Christ  and  the  Spirit  are,  as  principal 
causes,  the  only  comforters  ;  but  his  ministers  are  comforters  under 
him.  (2.)  And  that  which  you  must  expect  from  them  are  these 
two  things.  1.  You  must  expect  those  fuller  discoveries  of  God's 
will  than  you  are  able  to  make  yourself,  by  which  you  may  have 
assurance  of  your  duty  to  God,  and  of  the  sense  of  Scripture,  which 
expresseth  how  God  will  deal  with  you  ;  that  so  a  clearer  discov- 
ery of  God's  mind  may  resolve  your  doubts.  2.  In  the  mean  time, 
till  you  can  come  to  a  full  resolution,  you  may  and  must  somewhat 
stay  yourself  on  the  very  judgment  of  your  pastor ;  not  as  infalli- 
ble, but  as  a  discovery  of  the  probability  of  your  good  or  bad  estate  ; 
and  so  of  your  duty  also.  Though  you  will  not  renounce  your 
own  understanding,  and  believe  any  man  when  you  know  he  is  de- 
ceived, or  would  deceive  you,  yet  you  would  so  far  suspect  your 
own  reason  and  value  another's,  as  to  have  a  special  regard  to 
every  man's  judgment  in  his  own  profession.  If  the  physician  tell 
you  that  your  disease  is  not  dangerous,  or  the  lawyer  that  your 
cause  is  good,  it  will  more  comfort  you  than  if  another  man  should 
say  as  much.  It  may  much  stay  your  heart,  till  you  can  reach  to 
clearer  evidences  and  assurance,  to  have  a  pastor  that  is  well  ac- 
quainted with  you,  and  is  faithful  and  judicious,  to  tell  you  that  he 
verily  thinks  that  you  are  in  a  safe  condition.  (3.)  But  the  chief  use 
of  his  advice  is,  not  so  much  to  tell  you  what  he  thinks  of  you,  as 
to  give  you  directions  how  you  may  judge  of  yourself,  and  come 
out  of  your  trouble  ;  besides  the  benefit  of  his  prayers  to  God 
for  you. 

4.  Next  let  me  tell  you  what  men  you  must  choose  to  open 
your  mind  to ;  and  they  must  be,  (1.)  Men  of  judgment  and  knowl- 
edge, and  not  the  ignorant,  be  they  never  so  honest ;  else  they 
may  deceive  you,  not  knowing  what  they  do ;  either  for  want  of 
understanding  the  Scripture,  and  the  nature  of  grace  and  sin ;  or 
for  want  of  skill  to  deal  with  both  weak  consciences,  and  deep,  deceit- 
ful hearts.  (2.)  They  must  be  truly  fearing  God,  and  of  experi- 
ence in  this  crreat  work.     For  a  troubled  soul  is  seldom  well  re- 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AXD    C;OMrORT.  451 

solved  and  comforted  merely  out  of  a  book,  but  from  the  book  and 
experience  both  together.  Carnal  or  formal  men  will  but  make  a 
iest  at  the  doubts  of  a  troubled  Christian  ;  or  at  least  will  give  you 
such  formal  remedies  as  will  prove  no  cure ;  either  they  will  per- 
suade you,  as  the  Antinomians  do,  that  you  should  trust  God  with 
your  soul,  and  never  question  your  faith  ;  or  that  you  do  ill  to 
trouble  yourself  about  such  things  ;  or  they  will  direct  you  only  to 
the  comforts  of  general  grace,  and  tell  you  only  that  God  is  merci- 
ful, and  Christ  died  for  sinners;  which  are  the  necessary  founda- 
tions of  our  peace;  but  will  not  answer  particular  doubts  of  our 
own  sincerity,  and  of  our  interest  in  Christ:  or  else  they  will  make 
you  believe  that  holiness  of  heart  and  life  (which  is  the  thing  you 
look  after)  is  it  that  troubleth  you,  and  breeds  all  your  scruples. 
Or  else,  with  the  Papists,  they  will  send  you  to  your  merits  for 
comfort :  or  to  some  vindictive  penance  in  fastings,  pilgrimages, 
or  the  like  ;  or  to  some  saint  departed,  or  angel,  or  to  the  pardons 
or  indulgences  of  the  pope  ;  or  to  a  certain  formal,  carnal  devotion, 
to  make  God  amends.  (3.)  They  must  be  men  of  downright  faith- 
fulness, that  will  deal  plainly  and  freely,  though  not  cruelly  ;  and 
not  like  those  tender  surgeons  that  will  leave  the  cure  undone  for 
fear  of  hurting  :  meddle  not  with  men-pleasers  and  daubers,  that 
will  presently  speak  comfort  to  you  as  confidently  as  if  they  had 
known  you  twenty  years,  when  perhaps  they  know  little  of  your 
heart  or  case.  Deal  not  with  such  as  resolve  to  humor  you.  (4.) 
They  must  be  men  of  fidelity,  and  well  tried  to  be  such,  that  you 
must  trust  them  with  those  secrets  which  you  are  called  to  reveal. 
(5.)  They  must  be  men  of  great  staidness  and  wisdom,  that  they 
may  neither  rashly  pass  their  judgment,  nor  set  you  upon  unsound, 
unwarrantable,  or  dangerous  courses.  (6.)  It  is  suspicious  if  they 
be  men  that  are  so  impudent  as  to  draw  out  your  secrets,  and 
screw  themselves  deeper  into  your  privates!  thoughts  and  ways 
than  is  meet ;  yet  a  compassionate  minister,  when  he  seeth  that 
poor  Christians  do  entangle  themselves  by  keeping  secret  their 
troubles,  or  else  that  they  hazard  themselves  by  hiding  the  great- 
est of  their  sins,  like  Achan,  Saul,  or  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  and 
so  jilay  the  hypocrites  ;  in  these  cases  he  may  and  must  urge  them 
to  deal  openly.  (7.)  Above  all,  be  sure  that  those  that  you  seek 
advice  of,  be  sound  in  the  faith,  and  free  from  the  two  desperate 
plagues  of  notorious  false  doctrine,  and  separating,  dividing  incli- 
nations, that  do  but  hunt  about  to  make  disciples  to  themselves. 
There  are  two  of  the  former  sort,  and  three  of  the  latter,  that  I 
would  charge  you  to  take  heed  of,  (and  yet  all  is  but  four.)  1. 
Among  those  that  err  from  the  faith,  (next  to  pagans,  Jews,  and 
infidels,  whetlun-  Ranters,  Seekers,  or  Socinians,  which  I  think  few 
sober,  godly  men  are  so  much  in  danger  of,  because  of  their  ex- 


452         DIKECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

treme  vileness,)  I  would  especially  have  you  ayoid  the  Antinomi- 
ans,  being  the  greatest  pretenders  to  the  right  comforting  afflicted 
consciences  in  the  world  ;  but  upon  my  certain  knowledge  I  dare 
say,  they  are  notorious  subverters  of  the  very  nature  of  the  gospel, 
and  that  free  grace  which  they  so  much  talk  of,  and  the  great  dis- 
honorers of  the  Lord  Jesus,  whom  they  seem  so  highly  to  extol. 
They  are  those  mountebanks  and  quacksalvers  that  delude  the 
world  by  vain  ostentation,  and  kill  more  than  they  will  cure.  2. 
Next  to  them,  take  heed  of  Papists,  who  will  go  to  Rome,  to  saints, 
to  angels,  to  merits,  to  the  most  carnal  delusory  means  for  comfort, 
when  they  should  go  to  Scripture  and  to  heaven  for  it. 

And  then  take  heed  that  you  fall  not  into  the  hands  of  separat- 
ing dividers  of  Christ's  church.  The  most  notorious  and  danger- 
ous of  them  are  of  these  three  sorts.  1.-  The  last-mentioned,  the 
Papists:  they  are  the  most  notorious  schismatics  and  separatists 
that  ever  God's  church  did  know  on  earth.  For  my  part,  I  think 
their  schism  is  more  dangerous  and  wicked  than  the  vest  of  their 
false  doctrine.  The  unmerciful,  proud,  self-seeking  wretches, 
would,  like  the  Donatists,  make  us  believe  that  God  hath  no  true 
church  on  earth  but  they ;  and  that  all  the  Christians  in  Ethiopia, 
Asia,  Germany,  Hungary,  France,  England,  Scotland,  Ireland, 
Belgia,  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  that  acknowledge  not  their  pope 
of  Rome  to  be  head  of  all  the  churches  in  the  world,  are  none  of 
Christ's  churches,  nor  ever  were.  Thus  do  they  separate  from 
all  the  churches  on  earth,  and  confine  all  religion  and  salvation  to 
themselves,  who  so  notoriously  depart  from  Christ's  way  of  salva- 
tion. Indeed,  the  extreme  diligence  that  they  use  in  visiting  the 
sick,  and  soliciting  all  men  to  their  church  and  way,  is  plainly  to 
get  themselves  followers  ;  and  they  are  every  where  more  industri- 
ous to  enlarge  the  pope's  kingdom  than  Christ's.  So  far  are  they 
from  studying  the  unity  of  the  Catholic  church,  which  they  so 
much  talk  of,  that  they  will  admit  none  to  be  of  that  church,  nor 
to  be  saved,  but  their  own  party,  as  if  indeed  the  pope  had  the 
keys  of*  heaven.  Indeed,  they  are  the  most  impudent  sectaries 
and  schismatics  on  earth.  2.  The  next  to  them  are  the  Anabap- 
tists, whose  doctrine  is  not,  in  itself,  so  dangerous  as  their  schism, 
and  gathering  disciples  so  zealously  to  themselves.  And  so  strange 
a  curse  of  God  hath  followed  them  hitherto,  as  may  deter  any  sober 
Christian  from  rash  adventuring  on  their  way.  Even  now,  when 
they  are  higher  in  the  world  than  ever  they  were  on  earth,  yet  do 
the  judicious  see  God's  heavy  judgment  upon  them,  in  their  con- 
gregations and  conversation.  3.  Lastly,  Meddle  not  with  those 
commonly  called  Separatists,  for  they  will  make  a  prey  of  you  for 
the  increase  of  their  party.  I  do  not  mean  that  you  should  sepa- 
rate from  these  two  last,  as  they  do  from  us,  and  hav^  nothing  to 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMPORT.  453 

do  with  them,  nor  acknowledge  them  Christians;  but  seek  not 
their  advice,  an"d  make  ihdm  not  of  your  counsel.  You  will  do  as 
one  that  goes  to  a  physician  that  hath  the  plague,  to  be  cured  of  a 
cut  finger,  if  you  go  for  your  comfort  to  any  of  these  seducers.  But 
if  you  have  a  pastor  that  is  sound  in  the  main  doctrines  of  religion, 
and  is  studious  of  the  unity  and  peace  of  the  church,  such  a  man 
you  may  use,  though  in  many  things  mistaken  ;  for  he  will  not  seek 
to  make  a  prey  of  you  by  drawing  you  to  his  party  ;  let  him  be 
Lutheran,  Calvinist,  Arminian,  Episcopal,  Independent,  or  Pres- 
byterian, so  he  be  sound  in  the  main,  and  free  from  division. 
Thus  I  have  shown  you  the  qualifications  of  these  men,  that  you 
must  seek  advice  of. 

(8.)  Let  me  next  add  this  ;  Let  them  be  rather  pastors  than  pri- 
vate men,  if  it  maybe;  and  rather  your  own  pastors  than  others, 
if  they  are  fit.  For  the  first  consider,  L  It  is  their  oflice  to  be 
guides  of  Christ's  disciples  under  him,  and  to  be  spiritual  physi- 
cians for  the  curing  of  souls.  And  experience  telleth  us  (and 
sadly  of  late)  what  a  curse  followeth  those  that  step  beyond  the 
bounds  of  their  calling  by  invading  this  oflice,  and  that  God  bless- 
eth  means  to  them  that  keep  within  his  order;  1  Thes.  v.  12,  13. 
Heb.  xiii.  7.  17.  Not  but  that  private  men  may  help  you  in  this, 
as  a  private  neighbor  may  give  you  a  medicine  to  cure  your  dis- 
ease ;  but  you  will  not  so  soon  trust  them  in  any  weighty  case  as 
you  will  the  physician.  2.  Besides,  ministers  have  made  it  the 
study  of  their  lives,  and  therefore  are  liker  to  understand  it  than 
others.  As  for  those  that  think  long  study  no  more  conducible  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures,  than  if  men  studied  not  at  all, 
they  may  as  well  renounce  reason,  and  dispute  for  preeminency  of 
beasts  above  men,  as  renounce  study,  which  is  but  the  use  of  reason. 
But  it  appears  how  considerately  these  men  speak  themselves,  and 
whence  it  comes,  and  how  much  credit  a  sober  Christian  should 
give  them!  Let  them  read  Psalm  i.  2,  3.  Heb.  v.  11 — 14.  1 
Tim.  iv.  13 — 16,  and  2  Tim.  ii.  15,  and  then  let  them  return  to 
their  wits.  Paul  commands  Timothy,  though  he  was  from  his 
youth  acquainted  with  the  Scriptures, . "  Meditate  upon  these 
things;  give  thyself  wholly  to  them,  that  thy  profiting  may  appear 
to  all."  How  much  need  have  we  to  do  so  now !  3.  Also  min- 
isters are  usually  most  experienced  in  this  work  ;  and  wisdom  re- 
(juires  you  no  more  to  trust  your  soul,  than  you  would  your  body, 
with  an  unexperienced  man. 

^Vnd  if  it  may  be,  (he  being  fit,)  let  it  be  rather  your  own  pas- 
tor than  another;  1.  Because  it  belongeth  to  his  peculiar  place 
and  charge  to  direct  the  souls  of  his  own  congregation.  2.  Be- 
cause he  is  likelier  to  know  you,  and  to  fit  his  advice  to  your  es- 


454  DIRECTIONS    FOP.    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

tate,  as  having  better  opportunity  than  others  to  be  acquainted  with 
your  conversation. 

5.  Next  consider  in  what  manner  you  must  open  your  grief, 
if  you  would  have  cure.  (1.)  Do  it  as  truly  as  you  can.  Make 
the  matter  neither  better  nor  worse  than  it  is.  Especially  take 
heed  of  dealing  like  Ananias,  pretending  to  open  all,  (as  he  did  to 
give  all,)  when  you  do  but  open  some  common  infirmities,  and  hide 
all  the  most  disgraceful  distempers  of  your  heart,  and  sins  of  your 
life.  The  vomit  of  confession  must  work  to  the  bottom,  and  fetch 
up  that  hidden  sin,  which  is  it  that  continueth  your  calamity. 
Read  Mr.  T.  Hooker,  in  his  "  Soul's  Preparation,"  concerning 
this  confession,  who  shows  you  the  danger  of  not  going  to  the 
bottom. 

(2.)  You  must  not  go  to  a  minister  to  be  cured  merely  by  good 
words,  as  wizards  do  by  charms ;  and  so  think  that  all  is  well  when 
he  hath  spoken  comfortably  to  you.  But  you  must  go  for  direc- 
tions for  your  own  practice,  that  so  the  cure  may  be  done  by  lei- 
sure when  you  come  home.  Truly  most,  even  of  the  godly  that 
I  have  known,  do  go  to  a  minister  for  comfort,  as  silly  people  go 
to  a  physician  for  physic.  If  the  physician  could  stroke  them 
whole,  or  give  them  a  pennyworth  of  some  pleasant  stuff  that 
would  cure  all  in  an  hour,  then  they  would  praise  him.  But,  alas  ! 
the  cure  will  not  be  done,  1.  Without  cost.  2.  Nor  without  time 
and  patience.  3.  Nor  without  taking  down  unpleasing  medicines; 
and  so  they  let  all  alone.  So  you  come  to  a  minister  for  advice 
and  comfort,  and  you  look  that  his  words  should  comfort  you  be- 
fore he  leaves  you,  or,  at  least,  some  short,  small  direction  to  take 
home  with  you.  But  he  tells  you,  if  you  will  be  cured,  you  must 
more  resolve  against  that  disquieting  corruption  and  passion  ;  you 
must  more  meekly  submit  to  reproof;  you  must  walk  more  watch- 
fully and  conscionably  with  -God  and  men  ;  and  then  you  must  not 
give  ear  to  the  tempter,  with  many  the  like.  He  gives  you,  as  I 
have  done  here,  a  bill  of  thirty  several  Directions,  and  tells  you,  you 
must  practice  all  these.  O,  this  seems  a  tedious  course  ;  you  are 
never  the  nearer  comfort  for  hearing  these ;  it  must  be  by  long  and 
diligent  practicing  them.  Is  it  not  a  foolish  patient  that  will  come 
home  from  the  physician  and  say,  '  I  have  heard  all  that  he  said, 
but  I  am  never  the  better  ? '  So  you  say,  '  I  have  heard  all  that 
the  minister  said,  and  I  have  never  the  more  comfort.'  But  have 
you  done  all  that  he  bid  you,  and  taken  all  the  medicine  that  he 
gave  you?  Alas !  the  cure  is  most  to  be  done  by  yourself,  (under 
Christ,)  when  you  come  home.  The  minister  is  but  "the  physician 
to  direct  you  what  course  to  take  for  the  cure.  And  then,  as  silly 
people  run  from  one  physician  to  another,  hearing  what  all  can  say, 


SPIRITUAL   PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  455 

and  desirous  to  know  what  every  man  thinks  of  them,  but  thorough- 
ly follow  the  advice  of  none,  but  perhaps  take  one  medicine  from 
one  man,  and  one  from  another,  and  let  most  even  of  those  lie  by 
them  in  the  box,  and  so  perish  more  certainly  than  if  they  never 
meddled  with  any  at  all ;  so  do  most  troubled  souls  hear  what  ono 
man  saith,  and  what  another  saith,  and  seldom  thoroughly  follow  the 
advice  of  any  ;  but  when  one  man's  words  do  not  cure  them,  they 
say,  '  This  is  not  the  man  that  God  hath  appointed  to  cure  me.' 
And  so  another,  and  that  is  not  the  man  ;  when  they  should  rather 
say,  'This  is  not  the  way,'  than  '  This  is  not  the  man.'  This  lazy 
complaining  is  not  it  that  will  do  the  work,  but  faithful  practicing 
the  directions  given  you. 

But  I  know  some  will  say,  That  it  is  near  to  Popish  auricular 
confession,  which  I  here  persuade  Christians  to,  and  it  is  to  bring 
Christians  under  the  tyranny  of  the  priests  again,  and  make  them 
acquainted  with  all  men's  secrets,  and  masters  of  their  consciences. 
Answ.  1.  To  the  last,  I  say  to  the  railing  devil  of  this  age,  no 
more  but  "  The  Lord  rebuke  thee."     If  any  minister  have  wicked 
ends,  let  the  God  of  heaven  convert  him,  or  root  him  out  of  his 
church,  and  cast  him  among  the  weeds  and  briars.     But  is  it  not 
the  known  voice  of  sensuality,  and  hell,  to  cast  reproaches  upon 
the  way  and  ordinances  of  God  ?     Who  knovveth  not  that  it  is  the 
very  office  of  the  ministry,  to  be  teachers  and  guides  to  men  in 
matters  of  salvation,  and  overseers  of  them  ?  and  that  they  watch 
for  their  souls,  as  those  that  must  give  an  account,  and  the  people, 
therefore,  are  bound  to  obey  them?     Heb.  xiii.  7.  17.     Should 
not  the  shepherd  know  his  sheep,  and  their  strayings  and  diseases  ; 
how  else  shall  he  cure  them  ?     Should  not  the  physician  hear  the 
patient  open  all  his  disease,  yea,  study  to  discover  to  the  utmost 
every  thing  he  knows  ;  and  all  little  enough  to  the  cure  ?     A  dis- 
ease unknown  is  unlike  to  be  cured  ;  and  a  disease  well  known 
is  half  cured.     Mr.  Thomas  Hooker  saith  truly,  it  is  with  many 
people  as  with  some  over-modest  patients,  who  having  a  disease  in 
some  secret  place,  they  will  not  for  shame  reveal  it  to  the  physi- 
cian till  it  be  past  cure,  and  then  they  must  lose  their  lives  by  their 
modesty ;  so  do  many  by  their  secret  and  more  disgraceful  sins. 
Not  that  every  man  is  bound  to  open  all  his  sins  to  his  pastor;  but 
those  that  cannot  well  be  otherwise  cured,  he  must ;  either  if  the 
sense  of  the  guilt  cannot  be  removed,  and  true  assurance  of  pardon 
obtained  ;  or  else,  if  power  against  the  sin  be  not  otherwise  obtained, 
but  that  it  still  prevaileth ;  in  both  these  cases  we  must  go  to  those 
that  God  hath  made  our  directors  and  guides.     I  am  confident  many 
a  thousand  souls  do  long  strive  against  anger,  lust,  flesh-pleasing, 
worldliness,  and  trouble  of  conscience,  to  little  purpose,  who,  if 
chey  would  but  have  taken  God's  way,  and  sought  for  help,  and 


456  DIRECTIONS    FOR   GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

opened  all  their  case  to  their  minister,  they  might  have  been  de- 
livered, in  a  good  measure,  long  ago.     Answ.  2.  And  for  Popish 
confession,  I  detest  it.     We  would  not  persuade  men  that  there  is 
a  necessity  of  confessing  every  sin  to  a  minister,  before  it  can  be 
pardoned.     Nor  do  we  do  it  in  a  perplexed  formality  only  at  one 
time  of  the  year ;  nor  in  order  to  Popish  pardons  or  satisfactions ; 
but  we  would  have  men  go  for  physic  to  their  souls,  as  they  do  for 
their  bodies,  when  they  feel  they  have  need.     And  let  me  advise 
all  Christian  congregations  to  practice  this  excellent  duty  more. 
See  that  you  knock  oftener  at  your  pastor's  door,  and  ask  his  ad- 
vice in  all  your  pressing  necessities  :  do  not  let  him  sit  quietly  in 
his  study  for  you :  make  him  know  by  experience  that  the  tenth 
part  of  a  minister's  labor  is  not  in  the  pulpit.     If  your  sins  are 
strong,  and  you  have  wounded  conscience  deep,  go  for  his  advice 
for  a  safe  cure  :  many  a  man's  sore  festers  to  damnation  for  want 
of  this ;  and  poor,  ignorant  and  scandalous  sinners  have  far  more 
need  to  do  this  than  troubled  consciences.     I  am  confident,  if  the 
people  of  my  congregation  did  but  do  their  duty  for  the  good  of 
their  own  souls  in  private,  seeking  advice  of  their  ministers,  and 
opening  their  cases  to  them,  they  would  find  work  for  ten  ministers 
at  least ;  and  yet  those  two  that  they  have,  have  more  work  than 
they  are  able  to  do  already.     Especially  ministers  in  small  country 
congregations,  might  do  abundance  of  good  this  way ;  and  their 
people  are  much  to  blame  that  they  come  not  oftener  to  them  for 
advice  ;  this  were  the  way  to  make  Christians  indeed.     The  devil 
knows  this,  and  therefore  so  envies  it,  that  he  never  did  more  against 
a  design  in  the  world;  he  hath  got  the  maintenance  alienated  that 
should  have  maintained  them,  that  so  they  may  have  but  one  min- 
ister in  a  congregation,  and  then  among  the  greater  congregations 
this  work  is  impossible  for  want  of  instruments ;  yea,  he  is  about 
getting  down  the  very  churches  and  settled  ministry,  if  God  will 
suffer  him.     He  setteth  his  instruments  to  rail  at  priests  and  dis- 
cipline, and  to  call  Christ's  yoke  tyranny;  because  while  the  gar- 
den is  hedged  in,  he  is  fain,  with  envy,  to  look  over  the  hedge. 
What  if  a  man  (like  those  of  our  times)  should  come  to  a  town 
that  have  an  epidemical  pleurisy  or  fever,  and  say,  '  Do  not  run 
hke  fools  to  these  physicians ;  they  do  but  cheat  you,  and  rob  your 
purses,  and  seek  themselves,  and  seek  to  be  lords  of  your  lives.' 
It  is  possible  some  do  so ;  but  if,  by  these  persuasions,  the  silly 
people  should  lose  their  lives,  how  well  had  their  new  preacher  be- 
friended them  ?     Such  friends  will  those  prove  at  last  to  your  souls, 
that  dissuade  you  from  obeying  the  guidance  and  disciphne  of  your 
overseers,  and  dare  call  the  ordinances  of  the  Lord  of  glory  ty- 
rannical, and  reproach  those  that  Christ  hath  set  over  them.     Eng- 
land will   not  have  Christ  by  his  otficers   rule  over  them,  and 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    ANU    COMFORT.  457 

the  several  congregations  will  not  obey  him.  But  he  will  make 
them  know,  before  many  years  are  past,  that  they  refused  their 
own  mercy,  and  knew  not  the  things  that  belonged  to  their  peace, 
and  that  he  will  be  master  at  last,  in  spite  of  malice  and  the  proud- 
est of  his  foes.  If  they  get  by  this  bargain  of  refusing  Christ's 
government,  and  despising  his  ministers,  and  making  the  peace, 
unity  and  prosperity  of  his  church,  and  the  souls  of  men,  a  prey 
to  their  proud  misguided  fancies  and  passions,  then  let  them  boast 
of  the  bargain  when  they  have  tried  it.  .Only  I  would  entreat  one 
thing  of  them,  not  to  judge  too  confidently  till  they  have  seen 
the  end. 

And  for  all  you  tender-conscienced  Christians,  whom  by  the 
ministry  the  Lord  hath  begotten  or  confirmed  to  himself,  as  ever 
you  will  show  yourselves  thankful  for  so  great  a  mercy,  as  ever  you 
will  hold  that  you  have  got,  or  grow  to  more  perfection,  and  attain 
that  blessed  life  to  which  Christ  hath  given  you  his  ministers  to 
conduct  you  ;  see  that  you  stick  close  to  a  judicious,  godly,  faith- 
ful ministry,  and  make  use  of  them  while  you  have  them.  Have 
you  strong  lusts,  or  deep  wounds  in  conscience,  or  a  heavy  burden 
of  doubtings  or  distress  ?  Seek  their  advice.  God  will  have  his 
own  ordinance  and  officers  have  the  chief  instrumental  hand  in 
your  cure.  The  same  means  ofttimes  in  another  hand  shall  not 
do  it.  Yet  I  would  have  you  make  use  of  all  able  private  Chris- 
tians' help  also. 

I  will  tell  you  the  reason  why  our  ministers  have  not  urged  this 
so  much  upon  you,  nor  so  plainly  acquainted  their  congregations 
with  the  necessity  of  opening  your  case  to  your  minister,  and  seek- 
ing his  advice. 

1.  Some,  in  opposition  to  Popery,  have  gone  too  far  on  the  other 
extreme  ;  perhaps  sinning  as  deeply  in  neglect  as  the  Papists  do 
in  formal  excess.  It  is  a  good  sign  that  an  opinion  is  true,  when 
it  is  near  to  error.  For  truth  is  the  very  next  step  to  error.  The 
small  thread  of  truth  runs  between  the  close  adjoining  extremes  of 
error.  • 

2.  Some  ministers,  knowing  the  exceeding  greatness  of  the  bur- 
den, are  loath  to  put  themselves  upon  it.  This  one  work,  of  giv- 
ing advice  to  all  that  ought  to  conie  and  open  their  case  to  us,  if 
our  people  did  but  vvhat  they  ought  to  do  for  their  own  safety, 
would  itsell,  in  great  congregations,  be  more  than  pj-eaching  every 
day  in  the  week.  What,  then,  is  all  the  rest  of  the  work  ?  And 
how  can  one  man,  yea,  or  five,  do  this  to  five  thousand  souls? 
And,  then,  when  it  lieth  undone,  the  malicious  reproachers  rail  at 
the  ministers,  and  accuse  the 'people  of  unfitness  to  be  church  mem- 
bers ;  which ,  howsoever,  there  may  be  some  cause  of,  yet  not  so  much 
as  they  suggest ;  and  that  unfitness  would  best  be  cured  by  the  dili- 

VOL..    I.  ^tS 


453  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

gence  of  more  laborers,  which  they  think  to  cure  by  removing  the 
few  that  do  remain. 

3.  Also,  some  ministers,  seeing  that  they  have  more  work  than 
they  can  do  already,  think  themselves  incapable  of  more,  and 
therefore  that  it  is  vain  to  put  their  people  on  it,  to  seek  more. 

4.  Some  ministers  are  over-modest,  and  think  it  to  be  unfit  to 
desire  people  to  open  their  secrets  to  them,  in  confessing  their  sins 
and  corrupt  inclinations,  and  opening  their  wants ;  and  indeed 
any  ingenuous  man  will  be  backward  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  others. 
But  when  God  hath  made  it  our  office,  under  Christ,  to  be  physi- 
cians to  the  souls  of  our  people,  it  is  but  bloody  cruelty  to  connive 
at  their  pride  and  carnal  bashfulness,  or  hypocritical  covering  of 
their  sins,  and  to  let  them  die  of  their  disease,  rather  than  we  will 
urge  them  to  disclose  it. 

5.  Some  ministers  are  loath  to  tell  people  of  their  duty  in  this, 
lest  it  should  confirm  the  world  in  their  malicious  conceit,  that  we 
should  be  masters  of  men's  consciences,  and  would  lord  it  over 
them.  This  is  as  much  folly  and  cruelty  as  if  the  master  and  pilot 
of  the  ship  should  let  the  mariners  govern  the  ship  by  the  major 
vote,  and  run  all  on  shelves,  anil  drown  themselves  and  him,  and 
all  for  fear  of  being  thought  lordly  and  tyrannical,  in  taking  the 
government  of  the  ship  upon  himself,  and  telling  the  mariners  that 
it  is  their  duty  to  obey  him. 

6.  Most  godly  ministers  do  tell  people  in  general  of  the  neces- 
sity of  such  a  dependence  on  their  teachers,  as  learners  in  the 
school  of  Christ  should  have  on  them  that  are  ushers  under  him 
the  chief  master  ;  and  they  do  gladly  give  advice  to  those  that  do 
seek  to  them :  but  they  do  not  so  particularly  and  plainly  acquaint 
people  with  their  duty,  in  opening  to  them  the  particular  sores  of 
their  souls. 

It  is  also  the  policy  of  the  devil  to  make  people  believe  that 
their  ministers  are  too  stout,  and  will  not  stoop  to  a  compassionate 
hearing  of  their  case ;  especially  if  ministers  carry  themselves 
strangely  at  too  great* a  distance  Irom  their  people.  I  v.ould  eai- 
nestly  entreat  all  ministers,  therefore,  to  be  as  familiar,  and  as  much 
with  their  people,  as  they  can.  Papists,  and  other  seducers,  will 
insinuate  themselves  into  their  familiarity,  if  we  be  strange.  If  you 
teach  them  not  in  their  houses,  these  will  creep  into  their  houses, 
and  lead  them  captive.  I  persuade  others  of  my  brethren  to  that 
which  myself  am  disabled  from  performing;  being  by  constant 
weakness  (besides  unavoidable  business)  confined  to  my  chamber. 
But  those  that  can  perform  it,  will  find  this  a  most  necessary  and 
profitable  work.  And  let  not  poor  people  believe  the  devil,  who 
tells  them  that  ministers  are  so  proud,  only  to  discourage  them  from 
seeking  their  advice.     Go  try  them  once,  before  jou  believe  it. 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    A\l>    COMKORT.  459 

Lastly,  Remember  tliis,  thai  it  is  not  enough  that  you  once 
opened  your  case  to  your  pastor,  but  do  it  as  often  as  necessity 
urgeth  you  to  call  for  his  advice ;  though  not  on  every  light  occa- 
sion. Live  in  such  dependence  on  the  advice  and  guidance  of 
your  pastor  (under  Christ)  for  your  soul  as  you  do  on  the  advice 
of  the  physician  for  your  body.  Read  Mai.  ii.  7.  And  let  minis- 
ters read  6,  8,  9. 

Direct.  XXXn.  'As  ever  you  would  live  in  peace  and  com- 
fort, and  well  pleasing  unto  God,  be  sure  thai  you  understand  an*d 
deeply  consider  wherein  the  height  of  a  Christian  life  and  the 
greatest  part  of  our  duty  doth  consist ;  to  wit.  In  a  loving  delight 
in  God,  and  a  thankful  and  cheerful  obedience  to  his  will  ;  and 
then  make  this  your  constant  aim,  and  be  still  aspiring  after  it,  and 
let  all  other  affections  and  endeavors  be  subservient  unto  this.' 

This  one  rule,  well  practiced,  would  do  wonders  on  the  souls  of 
poor  Christians,  in  dispelling  all  their  fears  and  troubles,  and  help- 
ing not  only  to  a  settled  peace,  but  to  live  in  the  most  comfortable 
state  that  can  be  expected  upon  earth.  Write  therefore  these  two 
or  three  words  deep  in  your  understandings  and  memory ;  that  the 
life  which  God  is  best. pleased  wjth,  and  we  should  be  always  en- 
deavoring, is  a  loving  delight  in  God  through  Christ,  and  a  thank- 
ful and  cheerful  obedience  to  him.  I  do  not  say,  that  godly  sor- 
rows, and  fears,  and  jealousies  are  no  duties ;  but  tiiese  are  the 
great  duties,  to  which  the  rest  should  all  subserve.  Misapprehend- 
ing the  state  of  duty,  and  the  very  nature  of  a  Christian  life,  must 
needs  make  sad  distempers  in  men's  hearts  and  conversations. 
Many  Christians  look  upon  broken-heartedness,  and  much  grieving, 
and  weeping  for  sin,  as  if  it  were  the  great  thing  that  God  delight- 
eth  in,  and  requireth  of  them ;  and  therefore  they  bend  all  their 
endeavors  this  way,  and  are  still  striving  with  their  hearts  to  break 
them  more,  and  wringing  their  consciences  to  squeeze  out  some 
tears:  and  they  think  no  sermon,  no  prayer,  no  meditation,  speeds 
so  well  with  them,  as  that  which  can  help  them  to  grieve  or  weep. 
I  am  far  from  persuading  men  against  humiliation,  and  godly  sorrow, 
and  tenderness  of  heart.  But  yet  I  must  tell  you,  that  this  is  a 
sore  error  that  you  lay  so  much  upon  it,  and  so  much  overlook  that 
great  and  noble  work  and  stale  to  which  it  tendelh.  Do  you  think 
that  God  hath  any  pleasure  in  your  sorrows  as  such  ?  Doth  it  do 
him  good  to  see  you  dejected,  afflicted  and  tormented  ?  Alas !  it  is 
only  as  your  sorrows  do  kill  your  sins,  and  mortify  your  fleshly 
lusts,  and  prepare  for  your  peace  and  joys,  that  God  regards  them. 
Because  God  dolh  speak  comfortably  to  troubled,  drooping  spirits, 
ajid  tells  them  that  he  deliglileth  in  the  contrite,  and  loveth  the 
humble,  and  bindeth  up  the  broken-hearted  ;  therefore  men,  misun- 
derstanding him,  do  think  they  should  do  nothing,  but  be  still  break- 


460  IJIRKCTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

ing  their  own  hearts.  Whereas  God  speaks  it  but  partly  to  show 
his  hatred  to  the  proud,  and  partly  to  show  liis  tender  compassions 
to  the  humbled,  that  they  might  not  be  overwhelmed  or  despair. 
But,  O  Christians,  understand  and  consider,  that  all  your  sorrow^s 
are  but  preparatives  to  your  joys ;  and  that  it  is  a  liigher  and  sweet- 
er work  that  God  calls  yoji  to,  and  would  have  you  spend  your 
time  and  strength  in.  (1.)  The  first  part  of  it  is  love;  a  work 
tjiat  is  wages  to  itself.  Re  that  knows  w  hat  it  is  to  live  in  the  love  of 
God,  doth  know  that  Christianity  is  no  tormenting  and  discontent- 
ed Hfe.  (2.)  The  next  part  is,  "  Delight  in  God,  and  in  the 
hopes  and  forethoughts  of  everlasting  glory."  Psal.  xxxvii.  4. 
"  Delight  thyself  in  the  Lord,  and  he  shall  give  thee  the  desires  of 
thy  heart."  This  is  it  that  you  should  be  bending  your  studies  and 
endeavors  for,  that  your  soul  might  be  able  to  delight  itself  in  God. 
(3.)  The  third  part  is  thankfulness  and  praise.  Though  I  say  not, 
as  some,  that  we  should  be  moved  by  no  fears  or  desires  of  the  re- 
ward, (that  is,  of  God,)  but  act  only  from  thankfulness,  (as  though 
we  had  all  that  we  expect  already,)  yet  let  me  desire  you  to  take 
special  notice  of  this  truth  ;  that  thankfulness  must  be  the  main  prin- 
ciple of  all  gospel  obedience.  And  this  is  not  only  true  of  the 
regenerate  after  faith,  but  even  the  wicked  themselves,  w^ho  are 
called  to  repent  and  believe,  are  called  to  do  it  in  a  glad  and 
thankful  sense  of  the  mercy  offered  them  in  Christ.  All  the  world 
being  fallen  under  God's  wrath  and  deserved  condemnation,  and 
the  Lord  Jesus  having  become  a  sacrifice  and  ransom  for  all,  and 
so  brought  all  from  tliat  legal  necessity  of  perishing  which  they 
were  under,  the  gospel,  which  brings  them  the  news  of  this,  is  glad 
tidings  of  great  joy  to  them  ;  and  the  very  justifying  act  w'hich  they 
are  called  to,  is,  thankfully  to  accept  Christ  as  one  that  hath 
already  satisfied  for  their  sins,  and  will  save  them,  if  they  accept 
him,  and  will  follow  his  saving  counsel,  and  use  his  saving  means ; 
and  the  saving  work  which  they  must  proceed  in,  is,  thankfully  to 
obey  that  Redeemer  whom  they  believe  in.  So  that,  as  general 
redemption  is  the  very  foundation  of  the  new  world  and  its  govern- 
ment, so  thankfulness  for  this  redemption  is  the  very  life  of  justify- 
ing faith  and  gospel  obedience.  And  therefore  the  denial  of  this 
universal  redemption  (as  to  the  price  and  satisfaction)  doth  both 
disable  wicked  men  (if  they  receive  it)  from  coming  to  Christ  by 
true  justifying  faith  (which  is,  the  thankful  acci?ptance  of  Christ  as 
he  is  offered  with  his  benefits  ;  and  this  thankfulness  must  be  ibr 
what  he  hath  done  in  dying  for  us,  as  well  as  for  what  he  will  do  in 
pardoning  and  saving  us,)  and  it  doth  disable  all  true  believers  from 
gospel,  grateful  obedience,  whenever  .they  lose  the  sight  of  their 
evidences  of  special  grace,  (which,  alas,  how  ordinary  is  it  with 
them  !)     For  when  they  cannot  have  special  grace  in  their  eye  to 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  461 

be  thankful  for,  according  to  this  doctrine  they  must  have  none ; 
because  they^can  be  no  surer  that  Christ  died  for  them,  than  they 
ate  that  themselves  are  sincere  believers  and  truly  sanctified.  And 
when  thankfidness  for  Christ's  death  and  redemption  ceaseth,  gospel 
obedience  ceaseth,  and  legal  and  slavish  terrors  do  take  place. 
Though  the  same  cannot  be  said  of  thankfulness'  for  special  renew- 
ing and  pardoning  grace. 

(4.)  The  fourth  part  of  the  Christian  life  is  cheerful  obedience. 
God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver,  and'  so  he  doth  in  every  part  of  obe- 
dience, "  Because  thouservedst  not  the  Lord  thy  God. with  joyful- 
ness  and  with  gladness  of  heart  for  the  abundance  of  all  things,  thou 
shalt  serve  thy  enemies  in  hunger  and  thirst,"  &c.  Deut.  xxviii.  47. 

Will  you  now  lay  all  this  together,  and  make  it,  for  the  time  to 
come,  your  business,  and  try  whether  it  will  not  be  the  truest  way 
to  comfort,  and  make  your  life  a  blessed  life  ?  Will  you  make  it 
your  end  in  hearing,  reading,  praying,  and  meditation,  to  raise  your 
soul  to  delight  in  God  ?  Will  you  strive  as  much  to  work  it  to 
this  delight  as  ever  you  did  to  work  it  to  sorrow  ?  Certainly  you 
have  more  reason  ;  and  certainly  there  is  more  matter  of  delight  in 
the  face  and  love  of  God,  than  in  all  the  things  in  the  world  be- 
sides. Consider  but  the  Scripture  commands,  and  then  lay  to 
heart  your  duty.  Phil.  iv.  4.  "  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always,  and 
again,  I  say,  rejoice."  Chap.  iii.  L  Zech.  x.  7.  Joel  ii.  23. 
Isa.  xli.  16.  Psal.  xxxiii.  1,  "Rejoice  in  the  Lord,  O  ye  righ- 
teous, for  praise  is  comely  for  the  upright."  Psal.  xcvii.  12.  1 
Thess.   V.  16,    "  Rejoice  evermore."     1   Pet.  i.  6.  8.     Rom.  v. 

2.  John  iv.  36.     Psal.  v.  11.  xxxiii.  21.  xxxv.  9.  Ixvi.  6.  Ixviii. 

3,  4.  Ixxi.  23.  Ixxxix.  16.  cv.  3.  cxlix.  2.  xliii.  4.xxvii.  6.  John 
xvi.  -24.  Rom.  xv.  13.  xiv.  17,  "The  kingdom  of  God  is  in 
righteousness,   peace  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  Gal,   v.  22. 

■  Psal.  xxxii.  11.  "  Be  glad  in  the  Lord,  and  rejoice,  O  ye  righteous, 
and  shout  for  joy,  all  ye  that  are  upright  in  heart/'  Psal.  cxxxii.  9. 
16.  V.  11.  xxxv.  27.  Heb.  iii.  18;  with  a  hundred  more  the 
like.  Have  you  made  conscience  of  this  great  duty,  according  to 
its  excellency  and  these  pressing  commands  of  God  ?  Have  you 
made  conscience  of  the  duties  of  praise,  thanksgiving,  and  cheerful 
obedience,  as  much  as  for  grieving  for  sin  ?  Perhaps  you  will  say, 
'  1  cannot  do  it  for  want  of  assurance.  If  I  knew  that  I  were  one 
of  the  righteous,  and  upright  in  heart,  then  I  could  be  glad,  and 
shout  for  joy.'  Answ.  1.  I  have  before  showed  you  how  you  may 
know  that;  when  you  discover  it  in  yourself,  see  that  you  make 
more  conscience  of  this  duty.  2.  You  have  had  hopes  and  proba- 
bilities of  your  sincerity.  Did  you  endeavor  to  answer  those  prob- 
abilities in  your  joys  ?  3.  If  you  would  but  labor  to  get  this  delight 
in  God,  it  would  help  you  to  assurance  ;  for  it  would  be  one  of  your 
clearest  evidences. 


46'"2  DIRECTIONS    FOR    GETTING    AND    KEEPING 

O,  how  the  subtle  enemy  disadvantageth  the  gospel,  by  the  mis- 
apprehensions and  dejected  spirits  of  behevers!  It  is  the  very  de- 
sign of  the  ever-blessed  God  to  glorify  love  and  mercy  as  highly 
in  the  work  of  redemption  as  ever  he  glorified  omnipotency  in  the 
work  of  creation.  And  he  hath  purposely  unhinged  the  Sabbath, 
which  was  appointed  to  commemorate  that  work  of  power  in  crea- 
tion, to  the  first  day  of  the  week,  that  it  might  be  spent  as  a  week- 
ly day  of  thanksgiving  and  praise  for  the  now  more  glorious  work 
of  redemption,  that  love  might  not  only  be  equally  admired  with 
power,  but  even  go  before  it.  So  that  he  hath  laid  the  foundation 
of  the  kingdom  of  grace  in  love  and  mercy ;  and  in  love  and  mercy 
hath  he  framed  the  whole  structure  of  the  edifice ;  and  love  and 
mercy  are  w  ritten  in  legible,  indelible  characters  upon  every  piece. 
And  the  whole  frame  of  his  work  and  temple-service  hath  he  so 
composed,  that  all  might  be  the  resounding  echoes  of  love,  and  the 
praise  and  glorious  commemoration  of  love  and  mercy  might  be  the 
great  business  of  our  solemn  assemblies.  And  the  new  creation 
whhin  us,  and  without  us,  is  so  ordered,  that  love,  thankfulness, 
and  delight,  might  be  both  the  way  and  the  end.  And  the  serpent 
who  most  opposeth  God  where  he  seeketh  most  glory,  especially 
the  glory  of  his  grace,  doth  labor  so  successfull}'  to  obscure  this 
glory,  that  he  hath  brought  multitudes  of  poor  Christians  to  have 
poor,  low  thoughts  of  the  riches  of  his  grace  ;  and  to  set  every  sin 
of  theirs  against  it,  which  should  but  advance  it ;  and  even  to  ques- 
tion the  very  foundation  of  the  whole  building,  whether  Christ  hath 
redeemed  the  world  by  his  sacrifice.  Yea,  he  puts  such  a  veil 
oyer  the  glory  of  the  gospel,  that  men  can  hardly  be  brought  to  re- 
ceive it  as  glad  tidings,  till  they  first  have  assurance  of  their  own  sanc- 
tification  !  And  the  very  nature  of  God's  kingdom  is  so  unknown, 
that  some  inen  think  it  to  be  unrighteousness,  and  libertinism,  and 
others  to  be  pensive  dejections,  and  tormenting  scruples  and  fears  ; 
and  but  few  know  it  to  be  righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the 
Holy  Ghost.  And  the  very  business  of  a  Christian's  life  and  God's 
service,  is  rather  taken  to  be  scrupling,  quarreling,  and  vexing  our- 
selves and  the  church  of  God,  than  to  be  love  and  gratitude,  and  a 
delighting  our  souls  in  God,  and  cheerfully  obeying  him.  And  thus 
when  Christianity  seems  a  thraldom  and  torment,  and  the  service 
of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  seems  the  only  freedom,  and 
quiet,  and  delight,  no  wonder  if  the  devil  have  more  unfeigned 
servants  than  Christ,  and  if  men  tremble  at  the  name  of  holiness, 
and  fly  aw  ay  from  religion  as  a  mischief.  What  can  be  more  con- 
trary to  its  nature,  and  to  God's  design  in  forming  it,  than  for  the 
professors  to  live  such  dejected  and  dolorous  lives  ?  God  calls 
men  from  vexation  and  vanity  to  high  delights  and  peace;  and  men 
come  to  God  as  from  peace  and  pleasure  to  vexation.  All  our 
preaching  will  do  little  to  win  souls  from  sensuality  to  Imlmoco 


SPIRITUAI.    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  463 

while  they  look  upon  the  sad  lives  of  the  professors  of  holiness  :  as 
it  will  more  deter  a  sick  man  from  meddling  with  a  physician, 
to  see  all  he  hath  had  in  hand  to  lie  languishing  in  continual 
pains  to  their  death,  than  all  his  words  and  promises  will  encourage 
them.  O,  what  hlessed  lives  might  God's  people  live,  if  they  un- 
derstood the  love  of  God  in  the  mystery  of  man's  redemption,  and 
did  addict  themselves  to  the  consideration  and  improvement  of 
it,  and  did  helievingly  eye  the  promised  glory,  and  hereupon  did 
make  it  the  husiness  of  their  lives  to  delight  their  souls  in  him  that 
hath  loved  them !  And  what  a  wonderful  success  might  we  ex- 
pect to  our  preaching,  if  the  holy  delights  and  cheerful  obedience 
of  the  saints  did  preach  as  clearly  to  the  eyes  of  the  world  as  we 
preach  loudly  to  their  ears. 

But  flesh  will  be  flesh  yet  awhile !  And  unbelief  will  be  unbe- 
lief! We  are  all  to  blame  !  The  Lord  forgive  our  overlooking 
his  loving-kindness ;  and  our  dishonoring  the  glorious  gospel  of  his 
Son  ;  and  our  seconding  Satan,  in  his  contradicting  of  that  design 
which  hath  contrived  God's  glory  in  so  sweet  a  way. 

And  now,  Christian  reader,  let  me  entreat  thee,  in  the  name  and 
fear  of  God,  hereafter  better  to  understand  and  practice  thy  duty. 
Thy  heart  is  better  a  thousand  times  in  godly  sorrow  than  in  car- 
nal mirth,  and  by  such  sorrow  it  is  often  made  better;  Eccles.  vii. 
2 — 4.  But  never  take  it  to  be  right  till  it  be  delighting  itself  in 
God.  When  you  kneel  down  in  prayer,  labor  so  to  conceive  of 
God,  and  bespeak  him  that  he  may  be  your  delight ;  so  do  in 
hearing  and  reading ;  so  do  in  all  your  meditations  of  God  ;  so  do 
in  your  feasting  on  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ  at  his  supper.  Es- 
pecially improve  the  happy  opportunity  of  the  Lord's  day,  wherein 
you  may  wliolly  devote  yourselves  to  this  work.  And  I  advise 
ministers  and  all  Christ's  redeemed  ones,  that  they  spend  more  of 
those  days  in  praise  and  thanksgiving,  especially  in  commemoration 
of  the  whole  work  of  redemption,  (and  not  of  Christ's  resurrection 
alone,)  or  else  they  will  not  answer  the  institution  of  the  Lord  ;  and 
that  they  keep  it  as  the  most  solemn  day  of  thanksgiving,  and  be 
briefer  on  that  day  in  their  confessions  and  lamentations,  and  larger 
at  other  times !  O  that  the  congregations  of  Christ  through  the 
world  were  so  well  informed  and  animated  tliat  the  main  business 
of  their  solemn  assemblies  on  that  day  might  be  to  sound  forth  the 
high  praises  of  their  Redeemer ;  and  to  begin  here  the  praises  of 
God  and  the  Lamb,  which  they  must  perfect  in  heaven  forever  1 
How  sweet  a  foretaste  of  heaven  would  be  then  in  these  solemnities  1 
And  truly,  let  me  tell  you,  my  brethren  of  the  ministry,  you  should, 
by  private  teaching  and  week-day  sermons,  so  Anther  the  knowl- 
edge of  your  people,  that  you  miglit  not  need  to  spend  so  much 
of  the  Lord's  day  in  sermons  as  the  most  godly  use  to  do ;  but 


464        DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING 

might  bestow  a  greater  part  of  it  in  psalms  and  solemn  praises  to 
our  Redeemer.     And  I  could  wish  that  the  ministers  of  England, 
to  that  end,  would  unanimously  agree  on  some  one  translation  of 
the  English  Psalms  in  metre,  better  than  that  in  comnwn  use,  and, 
if  it  may  be,  better  than  any  yet  extant,  (not  neglecting  the  poet- 
ical sweetness  under  pretense  of  exact  translating,)  or  at  least  to 
agree  on  the  best  now  extant ;  (the  London  ministers  may  do  well 
to  lead  the  way ;)  lest  that  blessed  part  of  God's  solemn  worship 
should  be  blemished  for  want  either  of  reformation  or  uniformity. 
And  in  my  weak  judgment,  if  hymns  and  psalms  of  praise  were 
new  invented,  as  fit  for  the  state  of  the  gospel 'church  and  worship, 
(to  laud  the  Redeemer  come  in  the  flesh,  as  expressly  as  the  work 
of  grace  is  now  express,)  as  David's  Psalms  were  fitted  to  the  for- 
mer state  and  infancy  of  the  church,  and  more  obscure  revelations 
of  the  Mediator  and  his  grace,  it  would  be  no  sinful,  human  inven- 
tion or  addition,  nor  any  more  want  of  warrant,  than  our  inventing 
the  form  and  words  of  every  sermon  that  we  preach,  and  every 
prayer  that  we  make,  or  any  catechism  or  confession  .of  faith. 
Nay,  it  may  seem  of  so  great  usefulness  as  to  be  next  to  a  necessi- 
ty.    (Still  provided  that  we  force  not  any  to  the  use  of  them  that 
through  ignorance  may  scruple  it.)     And  if  there  be  any  convenient 
parcels  of  the  ancient  church  that  are  fitted  to  this  use,  they  should 
deservedly  be  preferred.     I  do  not  think  I  digress  all  this  while 
from  the  scope  of  my  discourse.     For,  doubtless,  if  God's  usual 
solemn  worship  on  the  Lord's  days  were  more  fitted  and  directed 
to  a  pleasant,  delightful,  praising  way,  it  would  do  very  much  to 
frame  the  spirits  of  Christians  to  joyfulness,  and  thankfulness,  and 
delight  in  God  ;  than  which  there  is  no  greater  cure  for  their  doubt- 
ful, pensive,  self-tormenting  frame.     O  try  this.  Christians,  at  the 
request  of  one  that  is  moved  by  God    to  importune  you  to  it ! 
God  doth  pity  you  in  your  sorrows  !     But  he  delighteth  in  you 
when  you  delight  in  him.     See  Isai.  Iviii.  14.  compared  with  Zeph. 
iii.  17.     And  if  sin  interpose  and  hinder  your  delights,  believe  it, 
a  cheerful  amendment  and  obedience  is  that  which  will  please  God 
better  than  your  self-tormenting  fears.     Do  not  you  like  that  ser- 
vant better  that  will  go  cheerfully  about  your  work,  and  do  it  as 
well  as  he  can,  accounting  it  a  recreation,  and  will  endeavor  to 
mend  where  he  hath  done  amiss,  than  him  that  will  at  every  step 
fall  a  crying,  "01  am  so  weak,  I  can  do  nothing  as  I  should  ? " 
A  humble  sense  of  failings  you  will  like  ;  but  not  that  your  servant 
should  sit  still  and  complain  when  he  should  be  working ;  nor  that 
all  your  service  should  be  performed  with  weeping,  disquietness 
and  lamentations :  you  had  rather  have  your  servant  humbly  and 
modestly  cheerful,  and  not  always  dejected  for  fear  of  displeasing 
you.     O  how  many  poor  souls  are  overseen  in  this !     You  might 


SPIRITUAL    PEACE    AND    COMFORT.  465 

easily  perceive  it  even  by  the  devil's  opposition  and  temptations. 
He  will  further  you  in  your  self-vexations,  (when  he  cannot  keep 
you  in  security  and  presumption,)  but  in  amending,  he  will  hinder 
you  with  all  his*  might.  How  oft  have  I  known  poor,  passionate 
creatures,  that  would  vex  and  rage  in  anger,  and  break  out  in  un- 
seemly language,  to  the  disquieting  of  all  about  them ;  and  others 
that  would  drop  into  other  the  like  sins,  and,  when  they  have  done, 
lament  it,  and  condemn  themselves,  and  yet  would  not  set  upon 
a  resolute  and  cheerful  reformation  !  Nay,  if  you  do  but  reprove 
them  for  any  sin,  they  will  sooner  say,  '  If  I  be  so  bad,  God  will 
condemn  me  for  jm  hypocrite,'  and  so  lie  down  in  disquietness 
and  distress,  than  they  will  say,  '  I  see  my  sin,  and  I  resolve  to 
resist  it,  and  I  pray  you  warn  me  of  it,  and  help  me  to  watch 
against  it.'  So  that  they  would  bring  us  to  this  pass,  that  either 
we  must  let  them  alone  with  their  sins,  for  fear  of  tormenting  them, 
or  else  we  must  cause  them  to  lie  down  in  terrors.  Alas,  poor 
mistaken  souls !  It  is  neither  of  these  that  God  calls  for !  Will 
you  do  any  thing  save  what  you  should  do  ?  Must  you  needs  be 
esteemed  either  innocent,  or  hypocrites,  or  such  as  shall  be 
damned?  The  thing  that  God  would  have  is  this:  That  you 
^vould  be  glad  tliat  you  see  your  fault,  and  thank  him  that  showeth 
it  you,  and  resolvedly  do  your  best  to  amend  it,  and  this  in  faith 
and  cheerful  confidence  ill  Christ,  flying  to  his  Spirit  for  help  and 
victory.  Will  you  please  the  devil  so  far,  and  so  far  contradict 
the  gracious  way  of  Christ,  as  that  you  will  needs  either  sin  still 
or  despair?  Is  there  not  a  middle  between  these  two,  to  wit, 
cheerful  amendment  ?  Remember  that  it  is  not  your  vexation  or 
despair,  but  your  obedience  and  peace,  that  God  desireth.  That 
life  is  most  pleasing  to  him,  which  is  most  safe  and  sweet  to  you. 

If  you  say  still,  you  cannot  deliglit  in  God,  I  say  again,  Do  but 
acknowledge  it  the  great  work  that  God  requireth  of  you,  and  make 
it  your  daily  aim,  and  care,  and  business,  and  then  you  will  more 
easily  and  certainly  attain  it.  But  while  you  know  not  your  work, 
or  so  far  mistake  it,  as  to  think  it  consisteth  more  in  sorrows  and 
fears,  and  never  endeavor,  in  your  duties  or  meditations,  to  raise 
your  soul  to  a  delight  in  God,  but  rather  to  cast  down  yourself 
willi  still  poring  on  your  miseries,  no  wonder,  then,  if  you  be  a 
stranger  to  this  life  of  holy  delight. 

By  this  time  I  find  myself  come  up  to  the  subject  of  my  book  of 
the  "  Saints'  Rest;"  wherein  having  said  so  much  to  direct  and 
excite  you,  for  the  attainment  of  these  spiritual  and  heavenly  de- 
lights, I  will  refer  you  to  it,  for  your  help  in  that  work  ;  and  add 
no  more  here,  but  to  desire  you,  through  the  course  of  your  life, 
to  remember.  That  the  true  love  of  God  in  Christ,  and  delight  in 
liim,  and  thankful,  cheerful  obedience  to  him,  is  the  great  work  of 
VOL.  1.  59     " 


466      DIRECTIONS  FOR  GETTING  AND  KEEPING,  &iC. 

a  Christian,  which  God  is  best  pleased  with,  and  which  the  bless- 
ed angels  and  saints  shall  be  exercised  in  forever. 

And  O  thou,  the  blessed  God  of  love,  the  Father  of  mercy,  the 
Prince  of  peace,  the  Spirit  of  consolation,  compose  the  disquieted 
spirits  of  thy  people,  and  the  tumultuous,  disjointed  state  of  thy 
churches ;  and  pardon  our  rashness,  contentions,  and  blood-guilti- 
ness, and  give  us  not  up  to  the  state  of  the  wicked,  who  are  like 
the  raging  sea,  and  to  whom  there  is  no  peace !  Lay  thy  com- 
mand On  our  winds  and  waves,  before  thy  shipwrecked  vessel  per- 
ish ;  and  rebuke  that  evil  spirit  whose  name  is  Legion,  which  hath 
possessed  so  great  a  part  of  thine  inheritance.  Send  forth  the  spir- 
it of  judgment  and  meekness  into  thy  churches,  and  save  us  from 
our  pride  and  ignorance  with  their  effects ;  and  bring  our  feet  into 
the  way  of  peace,  which  hitherto  we  have  not  known.  O  close 
all  thy  people  speedily  in  loving  consultations,  and  earnest  inqui- 
ries after  peace.  'Let  them  return  from  their  corruptions,  conten- 
tions, and  divisions,  and  jointly  seek  thee,  asking  the  way  to  Zion, 
with  their  faces  thitherward  ;  saying.  Come,  let  us  join  ourselves  to 
the  Lord  in  a  perpetual  covenant  that  shall  not  be  forgotten.  Blast 
all  opposing  policies  and  powers.  Say  to  these  dead  and  dry  bones. 
Live.  And  out  of  these  ruins  do  thou  yet  erect  a  city  of  righteous- 
ness, where  thy  people  may  dwell  together  in  peaceable  habita- 
tions ;  and  in  the  midst  thereof  a  temple  to  thy  holiness :  let  the 
materials  of  it  be  verity  and  purity :  let  the  Redeemer  be  its  foun- 
dation :  let  love  and  peace  cement  it  into  unity  :  let  thy  laver  and 
covenant  be  the  doors  ;  and  holiness  to  the  Lord  be  engraven  there- 
on ;  that  buyers  and  sellers  may  be  cast  out,  and  the  common  and 
unclean  may  know  their  place ;  and  let  no  desolating  abomination 
be  there  set  up.  But  let  thy  people,  all  in  one  name,  in  one  faith, 
with  one  mind,  and  one  soul,  attend  to  thine  instructions,  and  wait 
for  thy  laws,  and  submit  unto  thine  order,  and  rejoice  in  thy  salva- 
tion ;  that  the  troubled  spirits  may  be  there  exhilarated,  the  dark 
enlightened,  and  all  may  offer  thee  the  sacrifice  of  praise,  (without 
disafiections,  discords,  or  divisions,)  that  so  thy  people  may  be  thy 
delight,  and  thou  mayest  be  the  chiefest  delight  of  thy  people, 
and  they  may  ])lease  thee  through  him  that  hath  perfectly  pleased 
thee.  Or  if  our  expectation' of  this  happiness  on  earth  be  too  high, 
yet  give  us  so  much  as  may  enlighten- our  eyes,  and  heal  those 
corruptions  which  estrange  us  from  thee,  and  may  propagate  thy 
truth,  increase  thy  church,  and  honor  thy  holiness,  and  may  quick- 
en our  desires,  and  strengthen  us  in  our  way,  and  be  a  foretaste  to 
MS  of  the  everlastinsi  rest. 


■•■^ 


^_ 


THE  CHARACTER 


OF    A 


SOUND,     CONFIRMED     CHRISTIAN; 


AS    ALSO    OF    A 


WEAK   CHRISTIAN, 


AND. OF    A 


SEEMING    C  HRISTI  AN 


WRITTEN     TO    IMPRINT    UPON    MEN  S    MINDS    THE    TRUE    IDEA    OR 
CONCEPTION    OF    GODLINESS    AND    CHRISTIANITY. 


THE 


PREFACE; 


DIRECTED     TO     MY     WORTHY    FRIEND,    HENRY    ASHURST,    ES^. 
'citizen    of    LONDON. 


Dear  and  faithful  friend, 

When  this  book  was  printed  and  passing  into  the  world,  with- 
out the  ordinary  ornament  of  a  prefixed  honored  name,  my  thoughts 
reduced  me  into  the  common"  way,  though  not  upon  the  common 
reasons ;  assuring  me  that  your  name  would  be  more  than  an  acci- 
dent or  ceremony  to  such  a  discourse  as  this ;  even  a  part,  more 
substantial  than  a  map  is  in  a  treatise  of  geography,  or  the  well-cut 
figures  in  tractates  of  anatomy.  Discourses  of  navigation,  archi- 
tecture, music,  &.C.,  may  almost  as  hopefully  instruct  the  learners, 
without  any  visible  opetations  or  effects,  as  the  characters  of  well- 
tempered  Christians  can  duly  inform  the  minds  of  ignorant,  ungodly 
men,  of  so  divine  a  thing  as  Christianity  and  godliness,  without  ac- 
quaintance with  some  such  persons,  in  whom  these  characters  are 
manifestly  exemplified.  Wise  and  holy  precepts  are  to  make  wise 
and  holy  persons :  it  is  such  persons,  as  well  as  such  precepts, 
which  bear  the  image  of  God ;  which  indeed  is  most  perfect  in 
exactness  and  integrity  in  the  precepts ;  (for  in  them  is  no  imper- 
fection or  error,  as  they  are  of  God  ;)  but  it  is  of  greater  final  ex- 
cellency, in  activity  and  usefulness  as  it  is  in  men.  And  therefore,  as 
God  delighteth  in  his  servants,  and  is  glorified  in  and  by  them  in  the 
world,  so  Satan  usually  chooseth  such  persons  to  reproach  and  make 
odious  to  the  ignorant,  rather  than  the  holy  precepts  immediately, 
by  which  they  are  directed  ;  both  because  their  holiness  is  most 
exasperating  by  activity,  and  also  most  liable  to  calumny  and  con- 
tempt, through  imperfection,  and  mixture  of  that  which  indeed  is 
worthy  of  dislike.  Till  godliness  and  Christianity  be  visible  in  full 
perfection,  and  elevated  above  the  contradiction  of  folly,  and  the 
contempt  of  pride,  the  blind,  distracted  minds,  of  hardened,  for- 
saken sinners  will  not  acknowledge  its  divine,  celestial  nature  and 
worth ;  but  then  it  will  be  too  late  to  become  partakers  of  it:  they 
must  both  know  and  possess  it  in  its  infancy  and  minority,  who  will 


% 

4 


•  •*♦ 


4V  • ,  . 


470  ■  PREFACE. 

ever  enjoy  it  in  its  heavenly  dignity  arid  glory.  If  seasonable  illu- 
mination and  conversion  confute  not  the  deceits  and  slanders  which 
pride  and  ignorance  have  entertained,  the  too  late  confutation  of 
them  by  death  and  their  following  experience,  will  make  them 
wish  that  they  had  been  wise  at  cheaper  rates,  when  it  will  be  in 
vain  to  cry,  "  Give  us  of  your  oil,  for  our  lamps  are  out ;  "  Matt. 
XXV.  8. 

But  while  I  offer  your  name  to  the  malicious  world,  as  an  in- 
stance of  the  temper  which  I  here  describe,  I  intend  it  not  as  a 
singular  though  an  eminent  instance ;  for,  through  the  great  mercy 
of  God,  there  are  thousands  of  examples  of  confirmed  Christians 
among  us  in  this  land,  even  before  those  eyes  that  will  not  see 
them.  But  it  is  not  catalogues,  but  single  names,  which  writers 
have  used  in  this  way.  And  why  may  I  not  take  the  advantage 
of  custom,  to  leave  to  the  world  the  testimony  of  my  estimation 
and  great  respects  to  so  deserving  a  person  of  the  primitive  Chris- 
tian, catholic  temper,  and  to  let  them  know  what  sort  of  men  were 
my  most  dear  and  faithful  friends  ?  And  also  thus  to  express  my 
love  by  telling  you  closely  what  you  must  be,  as  well  as  by  telling 
the  world,  for  their  example;  what  you  are  ?  Upon  these  accounts, 
without  your  knowledge  or  consent,  I  presume  thus  to  prefix  your 
name  to  this  treatise,  written  long  ago,  biit  now  published  by 

Your  faithful  Friend, 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 

From  my  Lodging  in  New  Prison,  June  H,  1669. 


TO    THE   READER 


Readers  : 

It  is  a  matter  of  a  greater  moment  than  I  can  express,  what 
idea  or  image  of  the  nature  of  godhness  and  Christianity  is  im- 
printed u])on  men's  minds.  Tlie  description  which  is  expressed  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures  is  true  and  full ;  the  thing  described  is  ration- 
al, pure,  perfect,  unblamable  and  amiable.  That  which  is  express- 
ed in  the  lives  of  the  most  is  nothing  so,  but  is  purblind,  defiled, 
.  maimed,  imperfect,  culpable,  and  mixed  with  so  much  of  the  con- 
trary quality,  that  to  them  that  cannot  distinguish  the  chaff  from 
the  wheat,  the  sickness  from  the  life,  it  seemeth  an  unreasonable, 
fanciful,  loathsome  and  vexatious  thing,  and  so  far  from  being  wor- 
thy to  be  preferred  before  all  the  riches,  honors  and  pleasures  of 
the  v/orld,  that  it  -seemeth  worthy  to  be  kept  under,  as  a  troubler 
of  kingdoms,  societies  and  souls.  And,  doubtless,  this  monstrous 
expression  of  it  in  men's' lives,  is  because  the  perfect  expression  of 
it  in  God's  word  hath  not  made  a  true,  impression  upon  the  mind, 
and  consequently  upon  the  heart.  For,  as  it  is  sound  doctrine 
which  must  make  sound  Christians,  so  doctrine  worketh  on  the  will 
and  affections,  not  as  it  is  in  itself,  and  as  delivered,  but  as  it  is 
understood,  believed,  remembered,  considered  ;  even  as  it  is  im- 
printed on'  the  mind,  and  used  by  it.  And  as  interposed  matter, 
or  defective  apphcation,  may  cause  the  image  on  the  wax  to  be  im- 
perfect, though  made  by  the  most  perfect  seal,  so  it  is  in  this  case  ; 
when  one  man  doth  defectively  understand  the  Scripture  descrip-. 
tion  of  a  godly  man  or  Christian;  and  another,  by  misunderstanding, 
mixeth  false  conceptions  of  his  own  ;  and  another,  by  a  corrupt, 
depraved  will,  doth  hinder  the  understanding  from  believing,  or  re- 
membering, or  considering  and  using  what  it  partly  apprehendeth ; 
wliat  wonder  if  the  godliness  and  Christianity  in  their  hearts  be 
unlike  the  godliness  and  Cln'lstianity  in  the  Scriptures  ?  When 
the  law  of  God,  in  nature  and  Scripture,  is  pure  and  uncorrupt,  and 
the  law  of  God  written  im])erfectiy  on  the  heart,  is  there  mixed 
with  the  carnal  law  in  their  members,  no  marvel  if  it  be  expressed 
accordingly  in  their  lives.. 

1  have  therefore  much  endeavored  in  all  my  writings,  and  espe- 
cially in  this,  to  draw  out  the  iiill   })ortraiture  of  a  Christian,  or 


472  PREFACE- 

godly  man  indeed,  and  to  describe  God's  image  on  the  soul  of  nmn, 
in  such  a  mannef  as  lendeth  to  the  just  information  of  the  reader's 
mind,  and  the  filling  up  of  the  wants,  and  rectifying  the  errors, 
which  may  be  found  in  his  former  conceptions  of  it.  And  I  do 
purposely  inculcate  the  same  things  oft,  in  several  writings,  (as 
when  I  preached  I  did  in  all  my  sermons,)  that  the  reader  may 
find  that  1  bring  him  not  undigested,  needless  novelties,  and  that  the 
frequent  repetition  of  them  may  help  to  make  the  deeper  and  fuller 
impression  ;  for  my  work  is  to  subserve  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  putting 
God's  law  into  men's  hearts,  and  writing  it  out  truly,  clearly  and 
fully  upon  their  inward  parts ;  that  they  may  be  made  such  them- 
selves, by  understanding  thoroughly  what  they  must  be,  and-what 
a  solid  Christian  is ;  and  that  thus  they  may  be  born  again  by  the 
incorruptible,  immortal  seed,  the  word  of  God,  which  willlive  and 
abide  forever ;  and  may  purify  their  souls  in  obeying  the  truth, 
through  the  Spirit;  1  Pet.  i.  22,23.  25.  He  is  the  best  lawyer, 
physician,  soldier,  &c.,  who  hath  his  doctrine  in  his  brain,  and  not 
only  in  his  books,  and  hath  digested  his  reading  into  an  intellectual 
system  and  habit  of  knowledge.  If  ministers  had  a  hundred  times 
over  repeated  the  integral  portraiture  or  character  of  a  sound  Chris- 
tian, till  it  had  been  as  familiar  to  the  minds  and  memories  of  their 
hearers,  as  is  the  description  of  a  magistrate,  a  physician,  a  school- 
master, a  husbandman,  a  shepherd,  and  such  things  as  they  are 
well  acquainted  with,  it  would  have  been  a  powerful  means  to 
make  sound  Christians.  But  when  men's  minds  conceive  of  a 
Christian  as  a  man  that  diftereth  from  heathens  and  infidels  in 
nothing  but  holding  the  Christian  opinions,  and  using  different 
words  and  ceremonies  of  worship,' and  such  like,  no  wonder  if  such 
be  but  opinionative,  hfeless  Christians ;  and  if  their  religion  make 
them  no  better  than  a  Seneca,  or  Plutarch,  I  shall  never  believe 
that  they  are  any  surer  to  be  saved  than  they.  And  such  a  sort 
of  men  there  are,  that  suppose  Christianity  to  consist  but  of  these 
three  parts.  1.  The  Christian  doctrine  acknovvledged,  (which 
they  call  faith.)  2.  The  orders  and  ordinances  of  the  Christian 
church  and  worship,  submitted  tO;  and  decently  used,  (which  they 
call  godliness.)  And,  3.  The  heart  and  life  of  a  Cato,  Cicero, 
or  Socrates  adjoined ;  but  all  that  goeth  beyond  this,  (which  is 
the  life  of  Christianity  and  godliness,  a  lively  faith,  and  hope,  and 
love ;  a  heavenly  and  holy  mind  and  life,  from  the  renewing,  in- 
dwelling Spirit  of  God,  which  is  described  in  this  treatise,)  they 
are  strangers  to  it,  and  take  it  to  be  but  fancy  and  hypocrisy. 
These  no  Christians  do  much  to  reduce  the  church  to  infidelity, 
that  there  may  be  indeed  no  Christians  in  the  world.  For  my 
part,  I  -must  confess,  if  tb.ere  were  no  better  Christians  in  the 


.  ,  PREFAC  r..  473 

world  than  these,  I  think  I  should  be  no  Christian  myself;  and  if 
Christ  made  men  no  better  than  the  religion  of  Socrates,  Cato,  or 
Seneca,  and  did  no  more  to  the  reparation  and  perfecting  of  men's 
liearts  and  lives,  I  should  think  no  better  of  the  Christian  religion 
than  of  theirs ;  for  the  means  is  to  be  estimated  by  the  end  and 
use ;  and  that  is  the  best  physician  that  hath  the  remedies 
which  are  fittest  to  work  the  cure.  If  God  had  not  acquainted  me 
with  a  sort  of  men  that  have  really  more  holiness,  mortification, 
spirituality,  love  to  God,  and  to  one  another,  and  even  to  enemies, 
and  more  heavenly  desires,  expectations  and  delights,  than  these 
men  before  described  have,  it  would  have  been  a  very  great  hin- 
drance to  my  faith. 

The  same  may  I  say  of  those  that  place  godliness  and  Christi- 
anity only  in  holding  strict  opinions,  and  in  affected,  needless  sin- 
gularities, and  in  the  fluent  oratory  and  length  of  prayer,  and  avoid- 
ing other  men's  forms  and  modes  of  worship,  and  in  any  thing  short 
of  a  renewed,  holy,  heavenly  heart  and  life. 

And,  undoubtedly,  if  a  true,  full  character  of  godliness  had  been 
imprinted  in  their  minds,  we  should  never  have  seen  the  professors 
of  it  so  blotted  with  sensuality,  selfishness,  pride,  ambition,  world- 
liness,  distrust  of  God,  self-conceitedness,  heresy,  schism,  rebellions, 
unquietness,  impatiency,  unmercifulness,  and  cruelty  to  men's  souls 
and  bodies,  as  we  have  seen  them  in  this  age  ;  and  all  this  justified 
as  consistent  with  religion. 

And  I  fear,  that  because  this  treatise  will  speak  to  few  that  are 
not  some  way  guilty,  every  face  which  hath  a  spot  or  blemish  will 
be  offended  with  the  glass ;  and  lest  the  faulty  will  say,  that  I  par- 
ticularly intended  to  disgrace  them  ;  but  I  must  tell  the  reader,  to 
prevent  his  misunderstanding,  that  if  he  shall  imagine  that  I  have 
my  eyes  upon  particular  parties,,  and,  as  a  discontented  person, 
do  intend  to  blame  those  that  differ  from  myself,  or  to  grieve  infe- 
riors, or  dishonor  and  asperse  superiors,  they  will  mistake  me,  and 
wrong  themselves,  and  me,  who  professedly  intend  but  the  true 
description  of  sound  Christians,  diseased  Christians,  and  seeming 
Christians. 

And  for  the  manner  of  this  writing,  I  am  conscious  it  hath  but 
little  to  commend  it.  The  matter  is  that  for  which  it  is  pub- 
lished. The  Lord  Verulam,  in  his  Essays,  truly  saith,  that  "  much 
reading  makes  one  full,  much  discourse  doth  make  one  ready,  and 
much  writing  doth  make  a  man  exact."  Though  1  have  had  my 
part  of  all  these  means,  yet,  being  ])arted  five  years  from  my 
books,  and  three  years  from  my  preaching,  the  effects  may  decay; 
and  you  must  expect  neither  cjuotations  or  oratory  testimonies,  or 
ornaments  of  style  ;  but  having  not  yet  wholly  ceased  from  writ- 
voL.  I.  •  60 


474  PREFACE.  , 

ing,  I  may  own  so  much  of  the  exactness,  as  will  allow  me  to  en- 
treat the  reader  not  to  use  me  as  many  have  done,  who,  by  over- 
looking some  one  word,  have  made  the  sense  another  thing,  and 
have  made  it  a  crime  to  be  exact  in  writing,  because  they  cannot, 
or  will  not,  be  exact  in  reading,  or  charitable  or  humane  in  inter- 
preting. 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 


THE  'CHARACTER 


SOUND,  CONFIRMED  CHRISTIAN,  kc. 


In  the  explication  of  the  text,  which  I  made  the  ground  of  the 
foregoing  discourse,*  I  have  showed  you  that  there  is  a  degree  of 
grace  to  be  expected  and  sought  after  by  all  true  Christians,  which 
putteth  the  soul  into  a  sound,  confirmed,  radicated  state,  in  compari- 
son of  that  weak,  diseased,  tottering  condition,  which  most  Chris- 
tians now  continue  in.  And  I  have  showed  you  how  desirable  a 
state  that  is,  and  what  calamities  follow  the  languishing,  unhealth- 
ful  state,  even  of  such  as  may  be  saved.  And,  indeed,  did  we  but 
riglitly  understand  how  deeply  the  errors  and  sins  of  many  well- 
meaning  Christians  have  wounded  the  interest  of  religion  in  this 
age,  and  how  heinously  they  have  dishonored  God,  and  caused 
the  enemies  of  holiness  to  blaspheme,  and  hardened  thousands  in 
Popery  and  ungodliness,  in  probability  to  their  perdition  ;  had  we 
well  observed  when  God's  judgments  have  begun,  and  understood 
what  sins  have  caused  our  wars,  and  plagues,  and  flames,  and  worse 
than  all  these,  our  great  heart-divisions,  and  church-distractions 
and  convulsions  ;  we  should  ere  this  have  given  over  the  flattering 
of  ourselves  and  one  another,  in  such  a  heaven-provoking  state; 
and  the  ostentation  of  that  little  goodness,  which  hath  been  eclips- 
ed by  such  lamentable  evils.  And  instead  of  these,  we  should 
have  betaken  ourselves  to  the  exercise  of  such  a  serious,  deep  re- 
pentance as  the  quality  of  our  sins  and  the  greatness  of  God's  chas- 
tisements do  require.  It  is  a  doleful  case  to  see  how  light  many 
make  of  all  the  rest  of  theii-  distempers,  when  once  they  think  that 
they  have  so  much  grace  and  mortification  as  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  save  their  souls,  and  expect  that  preachers  should  say  lit- 
tle to  weak  Christians,  but  words  of  comfort,  setting  forth  their  hap- 
piness. And  yet  if  one  of  them,  when  he  hath  the  gout,  or  stone,  or 
colic,  or  dropsy,  doth  send  for  a  physician,  he  would  think  himself 


*  This  work  was  originally  published   in  connection  with  another,  entitled 
"  Directions  to  the  Convertrd  for  their  Establislimcnt."— /?f/ 


476  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

derided  or  abused,  if  his  physician,  instead  of  curing  his  disease, 
should  only  comfort  him  by  telling  him  that  he  is  not  dead. 
What  excellent  disputations  have  Ciceraand  Seneca,  the  Platonists 
and  Stoics,  to  prove  that  virtue  is,  oi  itself,  sufficient  to  make 
man  happy  !  And  yet  many  Christians  live  as  if  holiness  were  but 
the  way  and  means  to  their  felicity,  or  at  best  but  a  small  part  of 
their  felicity  itself;  or  as  if  felicity  itself  grew  burdensome,  or  were 
not  desirable  in  this  life,  or  a  small  degree  of  it  were  as  good  as 
a  greater. 

And  too  many  mistake  the  will  of  God,  and  the  nature  ofsancti- 
fication,  and  place  their  religion  in  the  hot  prosecution  of  those  mis- 
takes. They  make  a  composition  of  error  and  passion,  and  an  un- 
yielding stiffiiess  in  them,  and  siding  with  the  church  or  party  which 
maintaineth  them,  and  an  uncharitable  censuring  those  that  are 
against  them,  and  an  unpeaceable  contending  for  them  ;  and  this  com- 
position they  mistake  for  godliness,  especially  if  there  be  but  a  few 
drachms  of  godliness  and  truth  in  the  composition,  though  corrupt- 
ed and  overpowered  by  the  rest. 

For  these  miscarriages  of  many  well-meaning,  zealous  persons, 
the  land  mourneth,  the  churches  groan  ;  kingdoms  are  disturbed  by 
them ;  families  are  disquieted  by  them  ;  godliness  is  hindered,  and 
much  dishonored  by  them  ;  the  wicked  are  hardened  by  them,  and 
encouraged  to  hate,  and  blaspheme  and  oppose  religion  ;  the  glory 
of  the  Christian  faith  is  obscured  by  them  ;  and  the  infidel,  Mahom- 
etan and  heathen  world  are  kept  from  faith  in  Jesus  Christ,  and 
many  millions  of  souls  destroyed  by  them.  I  mean  by  the  miscar- 
riages of  the  weaker  sort  of  Christians,  and  by  the  wicked  lives  of 
those  carnal  hypocrites,  who,  for  custom  or  worldly  interest,  do  pro- 
fess that  Christianity  which  was  never  received  by  their  hearts. 

And  all  this  is  much  promoted  by  their  indiscretion,  who  are  so 
intent  upon  the  consolatory  opening  of  the  safety  and  happiness  of 
believers,  that  they  omit  the  due  explication  of  their  description, 
their  dangers,  and  their  duties. 

One  part  of  this  too  much  neglected  work  I  have  endeavored  to 
perform  in  the  foregoing  treatise;  another  I  shall  attempt  in  this 
second  part.  There  are  five  degrees  or  ranks  of  tnie  Christians 
observable.  1.  The  weakest  Christians,  who  have  only  the  essen- 
tials of  Christianity,  or  very  little  more  ;  as  infants  that  are  alive, 
but  of  little  strength  or  use  to  others.  2.  Those  that  are  lapsed 
into  some  w'ounding  sin,  though  not  into  a  state  of  damnation  ;  like 
men  at  age,  who  have  lost  the  use  of  some  one  member  for  the  pres- 
ent, though  they  are  strong  in  other  parts.  3.  Those  that  have 
the  integral  parts  of  Christianity  in  a  considerable  measure,  are  in 
a  sound  and  healthful  state,  though  neither  perfect,  nor  of  the 
highest  form  or  rank  of  Christians  in  tliis  life,  nor  without  such  in- 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  477 

firraities  as  are  the  matter  of  their  daily  watchfulness  and  humilia- 
tion. 4.  Tiiose  tliat  are  so  strong  as  to  attain  extraordinary  degrees 
of  grace,  who  are  therefore  comparatively  called  perfect,  as  Matt. 
V.  45.  5.  Those  that  have  an  absolute  perfection  without  sin ; 
that  is,  the  heavenly  inhabitants. 

Among  all  these,  it  is  the  third  sort  or  degree  which  I  liave  here 
characterized,  and  upon  the  bye,  the  first  sort,  and  the  hypocrite. 
1  meddle  not  now  with  the  lapsed  Christian  as  such ;  nor  with  those 
giants  in  holiness  of  extraordinary  strength ;  nor  with  the  perfect, 
blessed  souls  in  heaven.  But  it  is  the  Christian  who  hath  attained 
that  confirmation  in  grace,  and  composed,  quiet,  fruitful  state,  which 
we  might  ordinarily  expect,  if  we  were  industrious,  whose  image 
and  character  I  shall  now  present  you  with.  I  call  him  ofttimes  a 
Christian  indeed,  in  allusion  to  Christ's  description  of  Nathaniel, 
(John  i.  47.)  and  as  we  commonly  use  that  word,  for  one  that  an- 
swereth  his  own  profession  without  any  notable  dishonor  or  defect ; 
as  we  say  such  a  man  is  a  scholar  indeed  ;  and  not  as  signifying  his 
mere  sincerity.  I  mean  one  whose  heart  and  life  are  so  conformed 
to  the  principles,  the  rule,  and  the  hopes  of  Christianity,  that  to 
the  honor  of  Christ,  the  true  nature  of  our  religion  is  discernible  in 
his  conversation ;  (Matt.  v.  16.)  in  whom  an  impartial  infidel 
might  perceive  the  true  nature  of  the  Christian  faith  and  godliness. 
If  the  world  were  fuller  of  such  living  images  of  Christ,  who,  like 
true  regenerate  children,  represent  their  heavenly  Father,  Christi- 
anity would  not  have  met  with  so  much  prejudice,  nor  had  so  many 
enemies  in  tlie  world,  nor  would  so  many  millions  have  been  kept 
in  the  darkness  of  heathenism  and  infidelity,  by  flying  from  Chris- 
tians, as  a  sort  of  people  that  are  common  and  unclean. 

Among  Christians,  there  are  babes,  that  must  be  fed  with  milk, 
and  not  with  strong  meat,  that  are  "  unskillful  in  the  word  of  righte- 
ousness ;  "  (I  John  ii.  2.  12 — 14.  Heb.  v.  12 — 14.)  and  novices, 
who  are  unsettled,  and  in  danger  of  an  overthrow  ;  1  Tim.  iii.  6. 
John  XV.  3.  5,  &ic.  In  these  the  nature  and  excellency  of  Christi- 
anity is  little  more  apparent  than  reason  in  a  little  child.  And 
there  are  strong,  confirmed  Christians,  who,  by  "  reason  of  use,  have 
their  senses  exercised  to  discern  both  good  and  evil,"  (Heb.  v.  13, 
14.)  and  who  show  forth  the  glory  of  him  that  hath  called  them  out 
of  darkness  into  his  marvelous  light;  of  whom  God  himself  may 
say  to  Satan  and  their  malicious  enemies,  as  once  of  Job,  "  Hast 
thou  not  seen  my  servant  Job?"  &:c.  This  Christian  indeed  I 
shall  now  describe  to  you,  both  to  confute  the  infidel's  slanders  of 
Christianity,  and  to  unteach  men  those  false  descriptions  which 
have  caused  tlie  presumption  of  the  profane,  and  the  irregularities 
of  erroneous  sectaries,  and  to  tell  you  what  manner  of  persons 
they  be  that  God  is  honored  by.  and  what  you  must  be.  if  vou  will 


478  CHARACTER    OF   A    SOUND, 

understand  your  own  religion.  Be  Christians  indeed,  and  you  will 
have  the  comforts  indeed  of  Christianity,  and  will  find  that  its  fruits 
and  joys  are  not  dreams,  and  shadows,  and  imaginations,  if  you 
content  not  yourselves  with  an  imagination,  dream,  and  shadow 
of  Christianity,   or  with  some  clouded  spark,  or  buried  seed. 

The  Characters. 

I.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  (by  which  I  still  mean  a  sound,  con- 
firmed Christian)  is  one  that  contenteth  not  himself  to  have  a  seed 
or  habit  of  faith,  but  he  liveth  by  faith,  as  the  sensualist  by  sight 
or  sense.  Not  putting  out  the  eye  of  sense,  nor  living  as  if  he 
had  no  body,  or  lived  not  in  a  world  of  sensible  objects ;  but  as  he 
is  a  reasonable  creature,  which  exalteth  him  above  the  sensitive  na- 
ture, so  faith  is  the  true  information  of  his  reason,  about  those  high 
and  excellent  things,  which  must  take  him  up  above  things  sensi- 
ble. He  hath  so  firm  a  belief  of  the  life  to  come,  as  procured  by 
Christ,  and  promised  in  the  gospel,  as  that  it  serveth  him  for 
the  government  of  his  soul,  as  his  bodily  sight  doth  for  the  conduct 
of  his  body.  I  say  not,  that  he  is  assaulted  with  no  temptations, 
nor  that  his  faith  is  perfect  in  degree,  nor  that  believing  moveth 
him  as  passionately  as  sight  or  sense  would  do  ;  but  it  doth  effectu- 
ally move  him,  through  the  course  and  tenor  of  his  life,  to  do  those 
things  for  the  life  to  come,  which  he  would  do  if  he  saw  the  gloiy 
of  heaven,  and  to  shun  those  things,  for  the  avoiding  of  damna- 
tion, which  he  would  shun  if  he  saw  the  flames  of  hell.  Whether 
he  do  these  things  so  fervently  or  not,  his  belief  is  powerful,  effec- 
tual, and  victorious.  Let  sight  and  sense  invite  him  to  their  ob- 
jects, and  entice  him  to  sin  and  forsake  his  God ;  the  objects  of 
faith  shall  prevail  against  them,  in  the  bent  of  an  even,  a  constant, 
and  resolved  lifd.  It  is  things  unseen  which  he  taketh  for  his  treas- 
ure, and  which  have  his  heart,  and  hope,  and  chiefest  labors.  All 
things  else  which  he.  hath  to  do,  are  but  subservient  to  his  faith 
and  heavenly  interest,  as  his  sensitive  faculties  are  ruled  by  his 
reason.  His  faith  is  not  only  his  opinion,  which  teacheth  him  to 
choose  what  church  or  party  he  will  be  of;  but  it  is  his  intel- 
lectual light,  by  which  he  liveth,  and  in  the  confidence  and  com- 
fort of  which  he  dieth.  "  For  we  walk  by  faith,  not  by  sight. 
We  groan  to  be  clothed  upon  with  our  heavenly  house.  Where- 
fore we  labor,  that,  whether  present  or  absent,  we  may  be  accepted 
of  him;"  2  Cor.  v.  7 — 9.  "Now  the  just  shall  five  by  faith;" 
Heb.  X.  38.  "  Now  faith  is  the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the 
evidence  of  things  not  seen  ;"  Heb.  xi.  1.  Most  of  the  examples 
in  Heb.  xi.  do  show  you  this  truth,  that  true  Christians  live  and 
govern  their  actions  by  the  firm  belief  of  the  promise  of  God,  and 


CONFIRMED    CHRISl'IAN-  479 

of  another  life  when  this  is  ended.  "By  faith,  Noah,  being  warn- 
ed of  God  of  things  not  seen  as  yet,  moved  with  fear,  prepared  an  ark, 
to  the  saving  of  his  house,  by  the  which  he  condemned  the  world, 
and  became  heir  of  the  righteousness  which  is  by  faith  ;  "  ver.  7. 
"  Abraham  looked  for  a  city  which  had  foundations,  whose  builder 
and  maker  is  God ;  "  ver.  10.  "Moses  feared  not  the  wrath  of 
the  king  ;  for  he  endured,  as  seeing  him  who  is  invisible ;  "  ver. 
27.  So  the  three  witnesses  (Dan.  iii.)  and  Daniel  himself,  (chap.^ 
vi.)  and  all  believers  have  lived  this  life,  as  Abraham,  the  father  of 
the  faithful,  did ;  who,  as  it  is  said  of  him,  "  staggered  not  at  the 
promise  of  God  through  unbelief,  but  was  strong  in  faith,  giving 
glory  to  God ; "  Rom.  iv.  20.  The  faith  of  a  Christian  is  truly 
divine  ;  and  he  knoweth  that  God's  truth  is  as  certain  as  sight  itself 
can  be ;  however  sight  be  apter  to  move  the  passions.  Therefore, 
ifyou  can  judge  but  what  a  rational  man  would  be,  if  he  saw  heaven 
and  hell,  and  all  that  God  had  appointed  us  to  believe,  then  you 
may  conjecture  what  a  confirmed  Christian  li ;  though  sense  do 
cause  more  sensible  apprehensions. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  also  hath  a  faith  that  is  divine,  as  caus- 
ed by  God,  and  resting  on  his  word  and  truth.  And  he  so  far  liv- 
eth  by  this  faith,  as  that  it  commandeth  and  guidetli  the  scope  and 
drift  of  his  heart  and  life.  But  he  believeth  with  a  great  deal  of 
staggering  and  unbelief;  and  therefore  his  hopes  are  interrupted  by 
his  troublesome  doubts  and  fears ;  and  the  dimness  and  languor  of 
his  faith  is  seen  in  the  faintness  of  his  desires,  and  the  many  blem- 
ishes of  his  heart  and  life.  And  sight  and  sensual  objects  are  so 
much  the  more  powerful  with  him,  by  how  much  the  light  and  life 
of  faith  is  dark  and  weak. 

3.  The  hypocrite,  or  best  of  the  unregenerate,  believeth,  but 
either  with  a  human  faith,  which  resteth  but  on  the  word  of  man^ 
or  else  with*a  dead,  opinionative  faith,  which  is  overpowered  by 
infidelity,  or  is  like  the  dreaming  thoughts  of  man  asleep,  which 
stir  him  not  to  action.  He  livetli  by  sight,  and  not  by  faith  ;  for  he 
hath  not  a  faith  that  will  overpower  sense  and  sensual  objects ; 
James  ii.  14.     Matt.  xiii.  22. 

II.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  not  only  knoweth  why  he  is  a  Chris- 
tian, but  seeth  those  reasons  for  his  religion,  which  disgrace  all  that 
the  most  cunning  atheist  or  infidel  can  say  against  it ;  ^nd  so  far 
satisfy,  confirm,  and  establish  him,  that  emergent  difficulties,  temp- 
tations, and  objections,  do  not  at  all  stagger  him,  or  raise  any  delib- 
erate doubts  in  him  of  the  truth  of  the  word  of  God.  He  seeth, 
first  the  natural  evidence  of  those  foundation  truths  which  nature 
itself  maketh  known  ;  'as,  that  there  is  a  God  of  infinite  being,  ]iow- 
er,  wisdom,  and  goodness,  the  Creator,  the  Owner,  the  Ruler,  and 
the  Father,  felicity  and  end  of  man ;  that  we  owe  hiin  all  our  love 


'480  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

and  service ;  that  none  of  our  fidelity  shall  be  in  vain,  or  unreward- 
ed, and  none  shall  be  finally  a  loser  by  his  duty ;  that  man  who  is 
naturally  governed  by  the  hopes  and  fears  of  another  life,  is  made 
and  liveth  for  that  other  life,  where  his  soul  shall  be  sentenced  by 
God,  his  Judge,  to  happiness  or  misery,  &c.  And  then  he  discern- 
eth  the  attestation  of  God  to  those  supernatural,  superadded  rev- 
elations of  the  gospel,  containing  the  doctrine  of  man's  redemp- 
tion. And  he  seeth  how  wonderfully  these  are  built  upon  the 
former,  and  how  excellently  the  Creator's  and  Redeemer's  doctrine 
and  laws  agree ;  and  how  much  countenance  supernatural  truths 
receive  from  the  presupposed  naturals  ;  so  that  he  doth  not  ad- 
here to  Christ  and  religion  by  the  mere  engagement  of  education, 
friends  or  worldly  advantages ;  nor  by  a  blind  resolution,  which 
wanteth  nothing  but  a  strong  temptation,  (from  a  deceiver  or  a  world- 
ly interest,)  to  shake  or  overthrow  it.  But  he  is  built  upon  the 
rock,  which  will  stand  in  the  assault  of  Satan's  storms,  and  the 
gates  of  hell  shall  ndt  prevail  against  it;  Matt.  xvi.  18.  xiii.  23.  vii. 
25.      John  vi.  68,  69. 

2.  But  a  weak  Christian  hath  but  a  dim  and  general  kind  of 
knowledge  of  the  reasons  of  his  religion;  or,  at  least,  but  a  weak 
apprehension  of  them,  though  he  have  the  best  and  most  unanswer- 
able reasons.  And  either  he  is  confident  in  the  dark  upon  grounds 
which  he  cannot  make  good,  and  which  want  but  a  strong  assault 
to  shake  them  ;  or  else  he  is  troubled  and  ready  to  stagger  at  every 
difficulty  which  occurreth.  Every  hard  saying  in  the  Scripture 
doth  offend  him,  and  every  seeming  contradiction  shaketh  him. 
And  the  depth  of  mysteries,  which  pass  his  understanding,  do  make 
liim  say,  as  Nicodemus  of  regeneration,  "  How  can  these  things  be  ?  " 
And  if  he  meet  with  the  objections  of  a  cunning  infidel,  he  is  un- 
able so  to  defend  the  truth,  and  clear  his  way  through  them,  as  to 
come  off  unwounded  and  unshaken,  and  to  be  the  more  confirmed 
in  the  truth  of  his  belief,  by  discerning  the  vanity  of  all  that  is  said 
against  it ;  Heb.  v.  12,  13.  Matt,  xv.  16.  1  Cor.  xiv.  20.  John 
xii.  16. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  either  hath  no  solid  reasons  at  all  for 
his  religion,  or  else,  if  he  have  the  best,  he  hath  no  sound  appre- 
hension of  them ;  but  though  he  be  never  so  learned  and  orthodox, 
and  can  preach  and  defend  the  faith,  it  is  not  so  rooted  in  him  as 
to  endure  the  trial ;  but  if  a  strong  temptation  from  subtlety  or  car- 
nal interest  assault  him,  you  shall  see  that  he  was  built  upon  the 
sand,  and  that  there  was  in  him  a  secret  root  of  bitterness,  and  an 
evil  heart  of  unbelief,  which  causpth  him  to  depart  from  the  living 
God.  Heb.  iii.  12.  Matt.  xiii.  20—22.  vii.  26,  27.  Heb.  xii. 
15.     John  vi.  60.  64.  66.     1  Tim.  vi.  10,  11. 

HI.      1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  not  only  confirmed  in  the  essen- 


COXKIRMKU    CHUISTIAN.  481 

tials  of  Christianity,  but  he  hath  a  clear,  dehghtful  siglit  of  tliose 
useful  truths,  which  are  the  integrals  of  Cliristianity,  and  are  built 
upon  the  fundamentals,  and  are  the  branches  of  the  master  points 
of  faith.  Though  he  see  not  all  the  lesser  truths,  (which  are 
branched  out  at  last  into  innumerable  particles,)  yet  he  seeth  the 
main  body  of  sacred  verities,  delivered  by  Christ  for  man's  sancti- 
fication  ;  and  seeth  them  methodically  in  their  proper  places  ;  and 
seeth  how  one  supports  another,  and  in  how  beautiful  an  order  and 
contexture  they  are  placed.  .  And  as  he  sticketh  not  in  the  bare 
principles,  so  he  receiveth  all  these  additions  of  knowledge,  not 
notionally  only,  but  practically,  as  the  food  on  which  his  soul  must 
live;  Heb.  v.  13,  14.  vi.  1,  '2.,  &c.  Matt.  xiii.  11.  Eph.  i.  18. 
iii.  18,  19.  John  xiii.  17. 

2.  A  weak  Christian,  (in  ^inowledge,)  besides  the  principles  or 
essentials  of  religion,  doth  know  but  a  few  disordered,  scattered 
truths ;  which  are  also  but  half  known,  because  while  he  hath  some 
knowledge  of  those  points,  he  is  ignorant  of  many  others,  which  are 
needful  to  the  supporting,  and  clearing,  and  improving  of  them  ; 
and  because  he  knoweth  tnem  not  in  their  places,  and  order,  and 
relation  and  aspect  upon  other  tnjths.  And,  therefore,  if  tempta- 
tions be  strong,  and  come  with  advantage,  the  weak  Christian,  in 
such  points,  is  easily  drawn  into  many  errors  ;  and  thence  into  great 
confidence  and  conceitedness  in  those  errors  ;  and  thence  into  sinful, 
dangerous  courses  in  the  prosecution  and  practice  of  those  errors. 
Such  are  like  "children  tossed  up  and  down,  and  carried  to  and 
fro  by  every  wind  of  doctrine,  through  the  cunning  sleight  and 
subtilty  of  men,  whereby  they  lie  in  wait  to  deceive."  Eph.  iv. 
14.     2  Cor.  xi.  3.     Col.  ii.  4.     2  Tim.  iii.  7. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian,  having  no  saving,  practical  knowledge 
of  the  essentials  of  Christianity  themeelves,  doth,  therefore,  either 
neglect  to  know  the  rest,  or  knoweth  them  but  notionally,  as  com- 
mon sciences,  and  subjecteth  them  all  to  his  worldly  interest ;  and, 
therefore,  is  still  of  that  side  or  party  in  religion,  which,  upon  the 
account  of  safety,  honor,  or  preferment,  his  flesh  commandeth  him 
to  follow.  Either  he  is  .still  on  the  greater,  rising  side,  and  of  the 
rulers'  religion,  be  it  what  it  will ;  or,  if  he  dissent,  it  is  in  pursuit 
of  another  game,  which  pride  or  fleshly  ends  have  started.  2  Pet. 
ii.  14.     Gal.  iii.  3.     John  ix.  22.  xii.  42,  43.     Matt.  xiii.  21,  22. 

IV.  1.  The  Christian  indeed  hath  not  only  reason  for  his  re- 
ligion, but  also  hath  an  inward,  continual  principle,  even  the  Spirit 
of  Christ,  which  is  as  anew  nature,  inclining  and  enlivening  him  to 
a  holy  life  ;  whereby  he  mindeth  and  savoreth  the  things  of  the 
Spirit.  Not  that  his  nature  doth  work  blindly,  as  nature  dotii  in 
the  irrational  creatures  ;  but  at  least  it  much  imitatcth  nature  as  it 
is  found  in  rational  creatures,  where  the  incbnation  is  necessary,  but 

VOL.  I.  61 


482  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

the  operations  free,  and  subject  to  reason.  It  is  a  spiritual  appe- 
tite in  the  rational  appetite,  even  the  will,  and  a  spiritual,  visive 
disposition  in  the  understanding.  Not  a  faculty  in  a  faculty  ;  but 
the  right  disposition  of  the  faculties  to  their  highest  objects,  to  which 
they  are  by  corruption  made  unsuitable.  So  that  it  is  neither  a 
proj)er  power  in  the  natural  sense,  nor  a  mere  act,  but  nearest  to 
the  nature  of  a  seminal  disposition  or  habit.  It  is  the  health  and 
rectitude  of  the  faculties  of  the  soul.  Even  as  nature  hath  made 
the  understanding  disposed  to  truth  in  general,  and  the  will  dispos- 
ed or  inclined  to  good  in  general,  and  td  self-preservation  and  feli- 
city in  particular  ;  so  the  Spirit  of  Christ  doth  dispose  the  under- 
standing to  spiritual  truth,  to  know  God  and  the  matters  of  salva- 
tion, and  doth  incline  the  will  to  God  and  holiness,  not  blindly,  as 
they  are  unknown,'  but  to  love  and  serve  a  known  God.  So  that 
whether  this  be  properly  or  only  analogically  called  a  nature,  or 
rather  should  be  called  a  habit,  I  determine  not-;  but  certainly 
it  is  a  fixed  disposition  and  inclination,  which  Scripture  calleth  the 
"divine  nature,"  (2  Pet.  i.  4.)  and  "the  seed  of  God  abiding  in 
us  ;  "  1  John  iii.  9.  But  most  usually  it  is  called  the  Spirit  of 
God,  or  of  Christ  in  us.  "  If  any  man  have  not  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,  the  same  is  none  of  his  ;"  Rom.  viii.  9.  "By  one  Spirit  we 
are  all  baptized  into  one  body  ;"  1  Cor.  xii.  13.  Therefore  we 
are  said  "  to  be  in  the  Spirit,  and  walk  after  the  Spirit,  and  by  the 
Spirit  to  mortify  the  deeds  of  the  body;"  Rom.  viii.  1.  9.  13. 
And  it  is  called,  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Son  and  the  Spirit  of  adoption, 
whereby  we  cry,  Abba,  Father;"  or  are  inclined  to  God,  as  chil- 
dren to  their  father:  and  the  "  Spirit  of  grace  and  supplication;" 
Rom.  viii.  15.  23.  26.  Gai.  iv.  6.  v.  17, 18.  Eph.  ii.  18.  22.  iv.  3, 4. 
Phil.i.  27.  ii.  1.  Zech.  xii.  10.  From  this  Spirit,  and  the  fruits  of  it, 
we  are  called  new  creatures,  and  quickened,  and  made  alive* to  God; 
2  Cor.  v.  17.  Eph.  ii.  15.  Rom.  vi.  11.  13.  It  is  a  great  con- 
troversy, vvhjether  tins  holy  disposition  and  inclination  was  natural 
to  Adam  or  not,  and  consequendy  whether  it  be  a  restored  nature 
in  us  or  not.  It  was"  so  natural  to  him  as  health  is  natural  to  the 
body,  but  not  so  natural  a^  to  be  a  nece^itating  principle,  nor  so 
as  to  be  hiseparable  and  unlosable.  • 

2.  This  same  Spirit  and  holy  inclination  is  in  the  weakest  Chris- 
tian also,  but  in  a  small  degree,  and  remissly  operating,  so  as  that 
the  fleshly  inclination  oft  seemeth  to  be  the  stronger,  when  he 
judgeth  by  its  passionate  strugglings  within  him.  Though,  indeed, 
the  Spirit  of  life  doth  not  only  strive,  but  conquer  in  the  main,  even 
in  the  weakest  Christians  ;  Rom.  viii.  9.     Gal.  v.  17 — 21. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  hath  only  the  ineffectual  motions  of 
the  Spirit  to  a  holy  life,  and  effectual  motions  and  inw^ard  disposi- 
tions to  some  common  duties  of  religion.     And  from  these",  with 


CONFIRMED    CHKISTIA.V.  493 

the  natural  principles  of  self-love  and  common  honesty,  with  the 
outward  persuasions  of  company  and  advantages,  his  religion  is 
maintained,  without  the  regeneration  of  the  Spirit;  John  iii.  fi. 

V.  From  hence  it  followeth,  1.  That  a  Christian  indeed  doth 
not  serve  God  for  fear  only,  but  for  love ;  even  for  love  both  of 
himself,  and  of  his  holy  work  and  service.  Yea'  the  strong  Chris- 
tian's love  to  God  and  iioliness  is  not  only  greater  than  his  love  to 
creatures,  but  greater  than  his  fear  of  wrath  and  punishment.  The 
love  of  God  constraineth  him  to  duty  ;  2  Cor.  v.  14.  "  Love  is  the 
fulfilling  of  the  law,"  (Rom.  xiii.  10. ;)  therefore  the  gospel  cannot 
be  obeyed  without  it.  He  saith  not,  '  O  that  this  were  no  duty, 
and  O  that  this  forbidden  thing  were  lawful ; '  though  his  flesh  say 
so,  the  Spirit,  which  is  the  predominant  part,  doth  not.  But  he 
saith,  "O  how  I  love  thy  law  !  O  that  my  ways  were  so  directed 
th4t  I  might  keep  thy  statutes!"  Psal.  cxix.  5.  For  the  Spirit 
is  willing,  even  when  the  flesh  is  weak.  He  serveth  not  God  against 
his  will ;  but  his  will  is  to  serve  him  more  and  better  than  he  doth. 
He  longeth  to  be  perfect,  and  perfectly  to  do  the  will  of  God,  and 
taketh-the  remnant  of  his  sinful  infirmities  to  be  a  kind  of  bondage 
to  him,  which  he  groaneth  to  be  delivered  from.  To  will  even 
perfection  is  present  with  him,  though  not  perfectly  ;  and  though 
he  do  not  all  that  he  willeth.  And  this  is  the  true  meaning  of 
Paul's  complaints  ;  Rom.  vii.  Because  the  flesh  warreth  against 
the  Spirit,  he  cannot  do  the  good  that  he  would  ;  that  is,  he  can- 
not be  perfect,  for  so  he  would  be ;  Gal.  v.  17.  His  love  and  will 
excel  his  practice. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  also  hath  more  love  to  God  and  holiness 
than  to  the  w^orld  and  fleshly  pleasure.  But  yet  his  fear  of  punish- 
ment is  greater  than  his  love  to  God  and  holiness.  To  have  no 
love  to  God,  is  inconsistent  with  a  state  of  grace ;  and  so  it  is  to 
have  less  love  to  God  than  to  the  world,  and  less  love  to  holiness 
than  to  sin.  But  to  have  more  fear  than  love  is  consistent  with 
sincerity  of  grace.  Yea,  the  weak  Christian's  love  to  God  and 
holiness  is  joined  with  so  much  backwardness  and  averseness,  and 
interrupted  with  weariness,  and  with  the  carnal  allurements  and  diver- 
sions of'the  creature,  that  he  cannot  certainly  perceive  whether  his 
love  and  willingness  be  sincere  or  not.  He  goeth  on  in  a  course  of 
duty,  but  so  heavily,  that  he  scarce  knoweth  whether  his  love  or 
loathing  of  it  be  the  greater.  He  goeth  to  it  as  a  sick  man  to  his 
meat,  or  labor.  All  that  he  doth  is  with  so  much  pain  or  indispos- 
edness,  that,  to  his  feeling,  his  averseness  seemeth  greater  than  his 
willingness,  were  it  not  that  necessity  maketh  liim  willing.  For 
the  habitual  love  and  complacency  which  he  hath  towards  God 
and  duty  is  so  oppressed  by  fear,  and  by  averseness,  that  it  is  not 
£0  much  felt  in  act  as  the)*. 


484 


CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


3.  A  seeming  Christian  hath  no  true  love  of  God  and  holiness 
at  all,  but  some  ineffectual  liking  and  wisiies  which  are  overborne 
by  a  greater  backwardness,  and  by  a  greater  love  to  earthly  things  ; 
so  that  fear  alone,  without  any  true  effectual  love,  is  the  spring  and 
principle  of  his  religion  and  obedience.  God  hath  not  his  heart, 
when  he  draweth  near  him  with  his  lips;  he  doth  more  than  lie 
would  do,  if  he  were  not  forced  by  necessity  and  fear  ;  and  had 
rather  be  excused,  and  lead  another  kind  of  life  ;  Matt.  xv.  8.  Isa. 
xxix.  13.  Though  necessity  and  fear  are  very  helpful  to  the 
most  sincere,  yet  fear  alone,  without  love  or  willingness,  is  a  grace- 
less state. 

VI.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  love  God  in  these  three  grada- 
tions :  he  loveth  him  much  for  his  mercy  to  himself,  and  for 
that  goodness  which  consisteth  in  benignity  to  himself;  but  he  lov- 
eth him  more  for  his  mercy  to  the  church,  and  for  that  goodness 
which  consisteth  in  his  benignity  to  the  church.  But  he  loveth 
him  most  of  all  for  his  infinite  perfections  and  essential  excellencies  ; 
his  infinite  power  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  sjmply  in  himself 
considered.  For  he  knoweth  that  love  to  himself  obhgeth  him  to 
returns  of  love  ;  especially  differencing,  saving  grace ;  and  he  know- 
eth that  the  souls  of  millions  are  more  worth  incomparably  than  his 
own,  and  that  God  may  be  much  more  honored  by  them  than  by 
him  abne ;  and  therefore  he  knoweth  that  the  mercy  to  many  is 
greater  mercy,  and  a  greater  demonstration  of  the  goodness  of  God, 
and  therefore  doth  render  him  more  amiable  to  man  ;  Rom.  ix.  3. 
And  yet  he  knoweth  that  essential  perfection  and  goodness  of  God, 
as  simply  in  himself  and  for  himself,  is  much  more  amiable  than  his 
benignity  to  the  creature ;  and  that  he  that  is  the  first  efficient,  must 
needs  be  the  ultimate,  final  cause  of  all  things ;  and  that  God  is  not 
finally  for  the  creature,  but  the  creature  for  God,  (for  all  that  he 
needeth  it  not.)  "  For  of  him,  and  through  him,  and  to  him  are  all 
things ; "  Rom.  xi.  36.  And  as  he  is  infinitely  better  than  our- 
selves, so  he  is  to  be  better  loved  than  ourselves.  As  I  love  a  wise 
and  virtuous  person,  though  he  be  one  I  never  expect  to  receive 
any  thing  from,  and  therefore  love  him  for  his  own  sake,  and  not 
for  his  benignity  or  usefulness  to  me ;  so  must  I  love  God  most  for 
his  essential  perfections,  though  his  benignity  also  doth  represent 
him  amiable.  As  he  is  blindly  selfish  that  would  not  rather  him- 
self be  annihilated  or  perish,  than  whole  kingdoms  should  all  perish, 
or  the  sun  be  taken  out  of  the  world  ;  (because  that  which  is  best 
must  be  loved  as  best,  and  therefore  be  best  loved  ;)  so  is  he  more 
blind,  who,  in  his  estimative,  complacential  love,  preferreth  not  in- 
finite, eternal  goodness,  before  such  an  imperfect,  silly  creature  as 
himself,  (or  all  the  world.)  We  are  commanded  to  love  our  neigh- 
bor as  ourselves,  when  God  is  to  be  Io\*ed  with  all  the  heart,  and 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  '*      485 

soul,  and  might,  which  therefore  signifieth  more  than  to  love  him 
as  ourselves  ;  (or  else  he  were  to  be  loved  no  more  than  our  neigh- 
bor.) So  that  the  strong  Christian  loveth  God  so  much  above 
himself,  as  that  he  accounteth  himself,  and  all  his  interests,  as 
nothing  in  comparison  of  God,  yea,  and  loveth  himself  more  for 
God  than  for  himself:  though  his  own  salvation  be  loved  and  de- 
sired by  him,  and  God  must  be  loved  for  his  mercy  and  benignity ; 
yet  that  salvation  itself  which  he  desireth,  is  nothing  else  but  the 
love  of  God  ;  wherein  his  love  is  the  final,  felicitating  act,  and  God 
is  the  final,  felicitating  object,  and  the  felicity  of  loving  is  not  first 
desired ;  but  the  attractive  object  doth  draw  out  our  love,  and 
thereby  make  us  consequentially  happy  in  the  enjoying  exercise 
thereof.  Thus  God  is  all  and  in  all  to  the  soul ;  Psal.  Ixxiii.  25. 
Rom.  xi.  36.  1  Cor.  x.  31.  'Deut.  vi.  5.  Matt,  xxiii.  37. 
xix.  17. 

2.  A  weak  Christian  also  loveth  God  as  one  that  is  infinitely 
better  than  himself  and  all  things  ;  (or  else  he  did  not  love  him  at 
all  as  God.)  But  in  the  exercise  he  is  so  much  in  the  minding  of 
himself,  and  so  seldom  and  weak  in  the  contemplation  of  God's  per- 
fections, that  he  feeleth  more  of  his  love  to  himself  than  unto 
God  ;  and  feeleth  more  of  his  love  to  God,  as  for  the  benefits  which 
he  receiveth  in  and  by  himself  than  as  for  his  own  perfections; 
yea,  and  often  fe^eth  the  love  of  himself  to  work  more  strongly 
than  his  love  to  the  church  and  all  else  in  the  world.  The  care 
of  his  own  salvation  is  the  highest  principle  which  he  ordinarily 
perceiveth  in  any  great  strength  in  him  ;  and  he  is  very  little  and 
weakly  carried  out  to  the  love  of  the  whole  church,  and  to  the 
love  of  God  above  himself;  Phil.  ii.  20—22.  1  Cor.  x.  24. 
Jer.  jclv.  5. 

3.  A  seeming  Christian  hath  a  common  love  of  God  as  he  is 
good,  both  in  himself,  and  unto  the  world,  and  unto  hhn.  But  this 
is  not  for  his  holiness ;  and  it  is  but  a  general,  ineffectual  appro- 
bation and  praise  of  God,  which  follovveth  a  dead,  inefi:ectual  belief: 
but  his  chief,  predominant  love  is  always  to  his  carnal  self,  and  the 
love  both  of  his  soul,  and  of  God,  is  subjected  to  his  fleshly  self- 
love.  His  chief  love  to  God  is  for  prospering  him  in  the  world, 
and  such  as  is  subservient  to  his  sensuality,  pride,  covetousness, 
presumption,  and  false  hopes  ;  Luke  xviii.  21,  22.  1  John  ii.  15. 
2  Tim.  iii.  2.  4.     John  xii.  43.  v.  42. 

Vn.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  practically  take  this  love  of 
God,  and  the  holy  expressions  of  it,  to  be  the  very  life  and  top  of 
his  religion,  and  the  very  hfe,  and  beauty,  and  pleasure  of  his  soul : 
he  makes  it  his  work  in  the  world,  and  loveth  himself  (comj)lacen- 
tially)  but  so  far  as  he  findeth  in  himself  the  love  of  (Jod  ;  and  so 


486 


CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


far  as  he  findeth  himself  without  it,  he  loatheth  himself  as  an  un- 
lovely carcass ;  and  so  far  as  his  prayers  and  obedience  are  without 
it,  he  looks  on  them  but  as  unacceptable,  loathsome  things  ;  and 
therefore  he  is  taken  up  in  the  study  of  redemption,  because  he 
can  no  where  so  clearly  see  the  love  and  loveliness  of  God,  as  in 
the  face  of  a  Redeemer,  even  in  the  wonders  of  love  revealed  in 
Christ.  And  he  studieth  them,  that  love  may  kindle  love  ;  and 
therefore  he  delighteth  in  the  contemplating  of  God's  attributes 
and  infinite  perfections  ;  and  in  the  beholding  of  him  in  the  frame 
of  the  creation,  and  reading  his  name  in  the  book  of  his  works, 
that  his  soul  may,  by  such  steps,  be  raised  in  love  and  admiration 
of  his  Maker.  And  as  it  is  a  pleasant  thing  for  the  eyes  to  behold 
the  sun  or  light,  so  it  is  to  the  mind  of  the  Christian  indeed,  to  be 
frequently  and  seriously  contemplating  the  nature  and  glory  of  God ; 
and  the  exercise  of  love  in  such  contemplations  is  most  of  his  daily 
walk  with  God.  And  therefore  it  is,  also,  that  he  is  more  taken  up 
in  the  exercises  of  thanksgiving,  and  the  praises  of  the  Almighty, 
than  in  the  lower  parts  of  godliness  ;  so  that  though  he  neglect  not 
confession  of  sin  and  humiliation,  yet  doth  he  use  them  but  in  sub- 
serviency to  the  love  and  praise  of  God :  he  doth  but  rid  out  th6 
filth  that  is  undecent  in  a  heart  that  is  to  entertain  its  God.  He 
placeth  not  the  chief  part  of  his  religion  in  any  outward  duties,  nor 
in  any  lower,  preparatory  acts ;  nor  doth  he  stop  in  any  of  these, 
however  he  neglect  them  not.  But  he  useth  th5m  all  to  advance 
his  soul  in  the  love  of  God ;  and  useth  them  the  more  diligently, 
because  the  love  of  God,  to  which  they  conduce,  as  to  their  proper 
end,  is  so  high  and  excellent  a  work.  Therefore  in  David's  psalms 
you  find  a  heart  delighting  itself  in  the  praises  of  God,  and  in  love 
with  his  word  and  works,  in  order  to  his  praises  ;  Psal.  cxvi.  1,  &:c. 
evi.,  ciii,,  cxlv.,  cxlvi.,  &c.     Rom.  viii.  37. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  is  taken  up  but  very  little  whh  the  live- 
ly exercises  of  love  and  praise,  nor  with  any  studies  higher  than 
his  own  distempered  heart :  the  care  of  his  poor  soul,  and  the  com- 
plaining of  his  manifold  infirmities  and  corruptions,  is  the  most  of 
his  religion;  and  if  he  set  hunself  to  the  praising  of  God,  or  to 
thanksgiving,  he  is  as  dull  and  short  in  it  as  if  it  were  not  his  prop- 
er work  ;  Psal.  Ixxvii.    Mark  ix.  24.  xvi.  14. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  liveth  to  the  flesh  ;  and  carnal  self- 
love  is  the  active  principle  of  his  hfe  ;  and  he  is  neither  exercised 
in  humiliation  or  in  praise  sincerely,  being  unacquainted  both  with 
holy  joy  and  sorrow;  but  knowing  that  he  is  in  the  hands  of  God, 
to  prosper  or  destroy  him,  he  will  humble  himself  to  him  to  escape 
his  judgments,  and  praise  him  with  some  gladness  for  the  sunshine 
of  prosperity  ;  and  he  will  seem  to  be  piously  thanking  God,  when 


tONriRMED    CHRISTIAJT. 


481 


he  is  but  rejoicing  in  the  accommodations  of  his  flesh,  or  strengthen- 
ing his  presumption  and  false  hopes  of  heaven;  Luke  xviii.  11. 
xii.  19.     Isaiah  Iviii,  2. 

VII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  is  so  apprehensive  of  his 
lost  condition,  unvvorthiness,  and  utter  insufficiency  for  himself,  and 
of  the  office,  perfection,  and  sufficiency  of  Christ,  that  he  hath  ab- 
solutely put  his  soul  and  all  his  hopes  into  the  hands  of  Christ, 
and  now  liveth  in  him  and  upon  him  ;  as  having  no  hfe  but  what 
he  hath  from  Christ,  nor  any  other  way  of  access  to  God,  or  accept- 
ance of  his  person,  or  his  service,  but  by  him.  In  him  he  behold- 
eth  and  delightfully  admireth  the  love  and  goodness  of  the  Father : 
in  him  he  hath  access  with  boldness  unto  God :  through  him  the 
most  t^errible,  avenging  Judge  is  become  a  reconciled  God,  and  he 
that  we  could,  not  remember  but  with  trembling,  is  become  the 
most  desirable  object  of  our  thoughts.  He  is  delightfully  employ- 
ed in  prying  into  the  unsearchable  mystery ;  and  Christ  doth  even 
dwell  in  his  heart  by  faith  ;  "  and  being  rooted  and  grounded  in 
love,  he  apprehendeth,  with  all  saints,  what  is  the  breadth,  and 
length,  and  depth,  and  height,  and  knoweth  the  love  of  Christ, 
which  passeth  knowledge  ; "  Ephes.  iii.  17—19.  He  perceiveth 
that  he  is  daily  beholden  to  Christ  that  he  is  not  in  hell,  that  sia 
doth  not  make  him  like  to  devils,  and  that  he  is  not  utterly  forsak- 
en of  God  :  he  feeleth  that  he  is  beholden  to  Christ  for  every  hour's 
time,  and  every  mercy  to  his  soul  or  body,  and  for  all  his  hope  of 
mercy  in  this  life,  or  in  the  life  to  come.  He  perceiveth  that  he 
is  dead  in  himself,  and  that  his  "life  is  hid 'with  Christ  in  God." 
And  therefore  he  is  as  "  buried  and  risen  again  with  Christ ;  "  even 
"dead  to  sin,  but  alive  to  God  through  Jesus  Christ ;"  Rom.  vi. 
3,  4.  1 1.  Col.  iv.  4.  He  saith  with  Paul,  (Gal.  ii.  20.)  "  I  am 
crucified  with  Christ :  nevertheless,  I  live ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ 
liveth  in  me  ;  aiid  the  life  which  I  now  live  in  the  flesh  I  live  by 
tl)e  faith  of  the  Sort  of  God,  who  loved  me,  and  gave  himself  for 
me."  Thus  doth  he  live  as  truly  and  constantly  by  the  second 
Adam,  who  is  a  quickening  Spirit,  as  he  doth  by  the  first  Adam, 
who  was  a  living  soul ;  1  Cor.  xv.  45.  This  is  a  confirmed 
Christian's  life. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  be  also  united  unto  Christ, 
and  live  by  faith,  yet  how  languid  are  the  operations  of  that  faith  1 
How  dark  and  dull  are  his  thoughts  of  Christ !  How  little  is  his 
sense  of  the  \Vonders  of  God's  love  revealed  to  the  world,  in  the 
mystery  of  redemption  I  How  little  use  doth  he  make  of  Christ  1 
And  how  little  life  receives  he  from  him  !  And  how  little  comfort 
findeth  he  in  believing,  in  comparison  of  that  which  the  confirmed 
find  1  He  is  to  Christ  as  a  sick  person  to  his  food  :  he  only  picketh 
here  and  there  a  little  of  the  crumbs  of  the  bread  of  life,  to  keep 


488  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

him  from  dying  ;  but  is  wo  fully  unacquainted  with  the  most  pow- 
erful works  of  faith.  He  is  such  a  believer  as  is  next  to  an  un- 
believer, and  such  a  member  of  Christ  as  is  next  to  a  mere 
stranger. 

3.  And  for  the  seeming  Christian,  he  may  understand  the  letter 
of  the  gospel,  and  number  himself  with  Christ's  disciples,  and  be 
baptized  with  water,  and  have  such  a  faith  as  is  a  dead  opinion ; 
but  he  hath  not  an  effectual,  living  faith,  nor  is  baptized  with  the 
Holy  Ghost ;  nor  is  his  soul  engaged  absolutely  and  entirely  in  the 
covenant  of  Christianity  to  his  Redeemer :  he  may  have  a  hand- 
some, well-made  image  of  Christianity  ;  but  it  is  the  flesh  and  sense, 
and  not  Christ  and  faith,  by  which  his  life  is  actuated  and  ordered ; 
John  iii.  6.     Rom.  ii.  28. 

IX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  firmly  believe  that  Christ  is  a 
■"Teacher  sent  from  God,"  (John  iii.  2.)  and  that  he  came  from 
heaven  to  reveal  his  Father's  will,  and  to  bring  '*  life  and  immor- 
tality "  more  fully  "  to  light  by  his  gospel ;  "  and  that  if  an  angel 
had  been  sent  to  tell  us  of  the  life  to  come,  and  the  way  thereto, 
he  had  not  been  so  credible  and  venerable  a  messenger  as  the  Son 
of  God ;  and  therefore  he  taketh  him  alone  for  his  chief  Teacher, 
and  knoweth  no  master  on  earth  but  him,  and  such  as  he  appoint- 
eth  under  him :  his  study  in  the  world  is  to  know  a  crucified  and 
glorified  Christ,  and  God  by  him,  and  he  regardeth  no  other  knowl- 
edge, nor  useth  any  other  studies  but  this,  and  such  as  are  subser- 
vient to  this.  Even  when  he  studieth  the  works  of  nature,  it  is  as 
by  the  conduct  of  the 'Restorer  of  nature,  and  as  one  help  appointed 
him  by  Christ,  to  lead  up  to  the  knowledge  of  God.  And  there- 
fore he  perceiveth  that  Christ  is  made  of  God  unto  us,  wisdom  as 
well  as  righteousness  ;  and  that  Christianity  is  the  true  philosophy ; 
and  that  the  wisdom  of  the  world,  which  is  only  about  worldly 
things,  from  worldly  principles,  to  a  worldly  end,  is  foolishness 
with  God :  he  taketh  nothing  for  wisdom  which  tendeth  not  to  ac- 
quaint him  more  with  God,  or  lead  him  up  to  everlasting  happiness. 
Christ  is  his  Teacher,  (either  by  natural  or  supernatural  revela- 
tion,) and  God  is  his  ultimate  end  in  all  his  studies,  and  all  that  he 
desireth  to  know  in  the  world.  He  valueth  knowledge  according 
to  its  usefulness  ;  and  he  knoweth  that  its  chief  use  is  to  lead  us  to 
the  love  of  God;  Matt,  xxiii.  8.  1  Cor.  i.  30.  ii.  2,  &c.  John 
i.  18.     Col.  ii.  3.     Ephes.  iv.  13. 

2.  Though  the  weak  Christian  hath  the  same  Master,  yet,  alas  ! 
how  little  doth  he  learn !  And  how  oft  is  he  hearkening  to  the 
teaching  of  the  flesh  !  And  how  carnal  and  common  is  much  of 
his  knowledge  !  How  little  doth  he  depend  on  Christ,  in  his  in- 
quiries after  the  things  of  nature  !  And  how  apt  is  he  to  think  al- 
most as  highly  of  the  teaching  of  Aristotle,  Plato,  Seneca,  or  at 


CONFIRMED  *CH1USTIAN.  489 

least  of  some  excellent  preacher,  as  of  Christ's!  And  to  forget, 
that  these  are  but  his  messengers  and  instruments,  to  convey  unto 
us  several  parcels  of  that  truth,  which  is  his  and  not  theirs,  and 
which  (naturally  or  supernaturally)  they,  received  from  him  ;  and 
all  these  candles  were  lighted  by  him,  who  is  the  sun  !  And  how 
little  doth  this  weak  Christian  refer  his  common  knowledge  to  God  ; 
or  use  it  for  him  ;  or  to  the  furtherance  of  his  own  and  others'  hap- 
piness !     ]  Tim.  ii.  4. 

3.  And  the  seeming  Christian,  though  materially  he  may  be 
eminent  for  knowledge,  yet  is  so  far  from  resigning  himself  to  the 
teachings  of  Christ,  that  he  maketh  even  his  knowledge  of  Chris- 
tian verities  to  be  to  him  but  a  common  carnal  thing,  while  he 
knoweth  it  but  in  a  common  manner,  and  useth  it  to  the  service  of 
the  flesh,  and  never  yet  learned  so  much  as  to  be  a  new  creature, 
nor  to  love  God  as  God  above  the  world  ;  1  Cor.  xiii.  2. 

X.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  whose  repentance  hath  been 
deep,  and  serious,  and  universal,  and  unchangeable :  it  hath  gone 
to  the  very  roots  of  sin,  and  to  the  bottom  of  the  sore,  and  hath  not 
left  behind  it  any  reigning,  unmortified  sin,  nor  any  prevalent  love 
to  fleshly  pleasures.  His  repentance  did  not  only  disgrace  his  sin, 
and  cast  some  reproachful  words  against  it,  and  use  confessions  to 
excuse  him  from  mortification,  and  to  save  its  life,  and  hide  it  from 
the  mortal  blow ;  nor  doth  he  only  repent  of  his  open  sins,  and 
those  that  are  most  censured  by  the  beholders  of  his  life  ;  but  he 
•specially  perceives  the  dangerous  poison  of  pride,  and  unbelief, 
and  worldliness,  and  the  want  of  the  love  of  God  ;  and  all  his  out- 
ward and  smaller  sins  do  serve  to  show  him  the  greater  malignity 
of  these,  and  these  are  the  matter  of  his  greatest  lamentations. 
He  taketh  not  up  a  profession  of  religion,  with  strong  corruptions 
secretly  covered  in  his  heart :  but  his  religion  consisteth  in  the 
death  of  his  corruptions,  and  the  purifying  of  his  heart :  he  doth 
not  secretly  cherish  any  sin  as  too  sweet  or  too  profitable  to  be  ut- 
terly forsaken,  nor  overlook  it  as  a  small,  inconsiderable  matter. 
But  he  feeleth  sin  to  be  his  enemy  and  his  disease,  and  as  he  de- 
sifeth  not  one  enemy,  one  sickness,  one  wound,  one  broken  bone, 
one  serpent  in  his  bed,  so  he  desireth  not  any  one  sin  to  be  spared 
in  his  soul ;  but  saith  with  David,  "  Search  me,  O  God,  and  know 
my  heart ;  try  me,  and  know  my  thoughts,  and  see  if  there  be  any 
wicked  way  in  me  :  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting ; "  Psal. 
cxxxix.  23.  He  liveth  in  no  gross  and  scandalous  sin  ;  and  his 
infirmities  are  comparatively  few  and  small  ;  so  that  if  he  were  not 
a  sharper  accuser  of  himself,  than  the  most  observant  spectators  are, 
(that  are  just,)  there  would  little  be  known  by  him  that  is  culpable 
and  matter  of  reproof.  He  "  walketh  in  all  the  commandments  and 
ordinances  of  God  blameless,"  (as  to  any  notable  miscarriage,) 
VOL.  I.  62 


490  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

.Luke  i.  6.  He  is  "  blameless  and  harmless,  as  the  son  of  God, 
without  rebuke  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse  generation ; 
among  whom  he  shineth  as  a  light  in  the  world;"  Phil.  ii.  15. 
The  fear,  and  love,  and  obedience  of  God,  is  the  work  and  tenor 
of  his  life. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  hath  no  sin  but  what  he 
is  a  hater  of,  and  fain  would  be  delivered  from,  yet,  alas !  how  im- 
perfect is  his  deliverance  !  And  how  weak  is  the  hatred  of  his  sin, 
and  mixed  with  so  much  proneness  to  it,  that  his  Hfe  is  much  blem- 
ished with  the  spots  of  his  offenses !  Though  his  unbelief,  and 
pride,  and  worldliness  are  not  predominant  in  him,  yet  are  they  (or 
some  of  them)  still  so  strong,  and  fight  so  much  against  his  faith, 
humility,  and  heavenliness,  that  he  can  scarcely  tell  which  hath 
the  upper  hand ;  nor  can  others,  that  see  the  failings  of  his  life, 
discern  whether  the  good  or  the  evil  be  most  prevalent.  Though 
it  be  heaven  which  he  most  seeketh,  yet  earth  is  so  much  regard- 
ed by  him,  that  his  heavenly-mindedness  is  greatly  damped  and 
suppressed  by  it.  And  though  it  be  the  way  of  godliness  and 
obedience  which  he  walketh  in,  yet  is  it  with  so  many  stumblings 
and  falls,  if  not  deviations  also,  that  maketh  him  oft  a  burden  to 
himself,  a  shame  to  his  profession,  and  a  snare  or  trouble  to  those 
about  him.  His  heart  is  like  an  ill-swept  house,  that  hath  many  a 
sluttish  corner  in  it.  And  his  life  is  hke  a  moth-eaten  garment, 
which  hath  many  a  hole,  which  you  may  see,  if  you  bring  it  into 
the  light ;  1  Cor.  iii.  1—3.  vi.  6—8.  xi.  18.  21,  22,  &c. 

3.  And  for  the  seeming  Christian,  his  repentance  doth  but  crop 
the  branches  ;  it  goeth  not  to  the  root  and  heart  of  his  sin  ;  it  leaveth 
his  fleshly  mind  and  interest  in  the  dominion ;  it  polisheth  his  life, 
but  maketh  him  not  a  new  creature ;  it  casteth  away  those  sins 
which  the  flesh  can  spare,  and  v.'hich  bring  more  shame,  or  loss  or 
trouble  with  them,  than  worldly  honor,  gain,  or  pleasure ;  but  still 
he  is  a  very  worldling  at  the  heart ;  and  the  sins  which  his  fleshly 
pleasures  and  felicity  consist  in,  he  will  hide  by  confessions  and 
seeming  oppositions,  but  never  mortify  and  forsake.  As  Judas, 
that  while  he  followed  Christ  was  yet  a  thief,  and  a  covetous  hyp*- 
ocrite  ;  John  xii.  6.      1  Tim.  vi_.  10,  11. 

XI.  1.  Hence  it  followeth  that  a  Christian  indeed  doth  heart- 
ily love  the  searching  light,  that  it  may  fully  acquaint  him  with  his 
sins :  he  is  tndy  desirous  to  know  the  worst  of  himself;  and  there- 
fore useth  the  word  of  God  as  a  candle,  to  show  him  what  is  in 
his  heart ;  and  bringeth  himself  willingly  into  the  light ;  he  loveth 
the  most  searching  books  and  preachers ;  not  only  because  they 
disclose  the  faults  of  other  men,  but  his  own :  he  is  not  one  that 
so  loveth  his  pleasant  and  profitable  sins,  as  to  fly  tlie  light,  lest 
he  should  be  forced  to  know  them,  and  so  to  forsake  them;  but 


CONFIRMF.D    CHRISTIAN'.  491 

because  lie  hatetli  tlioii,  and  is  resolved  to  forsake  them  ;  there- 
fore he  would  know  tiiem  ;  John  iii.  19 — 21.  Therefore  he  is  not 
only  patient  under  reproofs,  but  loveth  them,  and  is  thankful  to  a 
charitable  reprover,  and  niaketh  a  good  use  even  of  malicious  and 
passionate  reproofs  ;  Psal.  cxli.  5.  2  Sam.  xvi.  11.  He  saith,  as 
in  Job  xxxiv.  32,  "That  which  1  see  not,  teach  thou  me.  If  1 
have  done  iniquity,  I  will  do  no  more."  His  hatred  of  the  sin,  and 
desire  to  be  reformed,  suffer  not  his  heart  by  })ride  to  rise  up  against 
the  remedy,  and  reject  reproof.  Though  lie  will  not  falsely  con- 
fess his  duty  to  be  his  sin,  nor  take  the  judgment  of  every  selfish, 
passionate  or  ignorant  reprover  to  be  infallible,  nor  to  be  his  rule; 
yet  if  a  judicious,  impartial  person  do  but  suspect  him  of  a  fault,  he 
is  ready  to'suspect  himself  of  it,  unless  he  be  certain  that  he  is 
clear.  He  loveth  him  better  that  would  save  him  from  his  sin, 
than  him  that  would  entice  him  to  it-  and  taketh  him  for  his  best 
friend  who  dealeth  freely  with  him,  and  is  the  greatest  enemy  to 
his  faults ;  and  a  flatterer  he  taketh  but  for  the  most  dangerous, 
insinuating  kind  of  foe. 

2.  But. the  weak  Christian,  though  he  hate  his  sin,  and  love  ref- 
ormation, and  loveth  the  most  searching  books  and  preachers,  and 
loveth  a  gentle  kind  of  reproof,  yet  hath  so  much  pride  and  selfish- 
ness remaining,  that  any  reproof  that  seemeth  disgraceful  to  him, 
goeth  very  hai'dly  down  with  him  ;  like  a  bitter  medicine  to  a 
queasy  stomach  :  if  you  reprove  him  before  others,  or  if  your  re- 
proof be  not  very  carefully  sugared  and  minced,  so  that  it  rather 
extenuate  than  aggravate  his  fault,  he  will  be  re^ady  to  cast  it  up 
into  your  face,  and  with  retort  to  tell  you  of  some  faults  of  your 
own,  or  some  way  show  you  how  little  he  loveth  it,  and  how  little 
thanks  he  giveth  you  for  it.  If  you  will  not  let  him  alone  with 
his  infirmities,  he  will  distaste  you,  if  not  fallout  with  you,  and  let 
you  know  by  his  smart  and  impatience,  that  you  liave  touched  him 
in  the  sore  and  galled  place.  He  must  be  a  man  of  very  great 
skill  in  managing  a  reproof,  that  he  shall  not  somewhat  provoke 
him  to  distaste. 

3.  And  for  the  seeming  Christian,  this  is  "  his  condeumation, 
that  light  is  come  into  the  world,  and  he  loveth  darkness  rather  than 
light,  ])ecause  his  deeds  are  evil."  He  cometh  not  to  the  light, 
lest  his  deeds  should  be  discovered  and  reproved  ;  John  iii.  19 — 21. 
He  liketh  a  searching  preacher  for  others,  and  loveth  to  hear  their 
sins  laid  open,  if  it  no  way  reflecteth  upon  himself.  Hut  for  him- 
self he  liketh  best  a  general,  or  a  smoothing  preacher  ;  and  he  flieth 
from  a  quick  and  searching  ministry,  lestJie  should  be  proved  and 
convinced  to  be  in  a  state  of  sin  and  misery.  Guilt  maketh  him 
fear  or  hate  a  lively,  searching  preacher,  even  as  the  guilty  prison- 
er  hateth  the  judge.     He  loveth   no  company   so  well  as   that 


492  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

•which  thinketh  highly  of  him,  and  applaudeth  and  'commendeth 
him,  and  neither,  by  their  reproofs  or  stricter  lives,  will  trouble  his 
conscience  with  the  remembrance  of  his  sin,  or  the  knowledge  of 
his  misery.  He  will  take  you  for  his  enemy  for  telling  him  the 
truth,  if  you  go  about  to  convince  him  of  his  undone  condition,  and 
tell  him  of  his  beloved  sin.  Sin  is  taken  to  be  as  himself:  it  is  he 
that  doth  evil,  and  not  only  sin  that  dwelleth  in  him ;  and  there- 
fore all  that  you  say  against  his  sin,  he  taketh  as  spoken  against 
himself;  and  he  will  defend  his  sin  as  he  would  defend  himself: 
he  will  hear  you  till  you  come  to  touch  himself,  as  the  Jews  did  by 
Stephen,  (Acts  vii.  51.  54.,)  when  they  heard  him  call  them  stiff- 
•  necked  resisters  of  God,  and  persecutors,  then  th'ey  were  cut  to 
the  heart,  and  did  grind  their  teeth  at  him.  And  as  they  did  by 
Paul,  (Acts  xxii.  22.,)  "  They  gave  audience  to  this  word,  and  then 
lift  up  their  voices  and  said,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the 
earth,  for  it  is  not  fit  that  he  should  live;"  Gal.  iv.  16.  John  ix. 
40.  Matt.  xxi.  45.  The  priests  and  Pharisees  would  have  laid 
hands  on  Christ,  when  they  perceived  that  he  spake  of  them.  And 
Ahab  hated  Micaiah,  because  he  did  not  prophesy  good  of  him, 
but  evil ;  1  Kings  xxii.  8.  Deservedly  do  they  perish  in  their  sin 
and  misery,  that  hate  him  that  would  deliver  them,  and  refuse  the 
remedy.  "  Whoso  loveth  instruction  loveth  knowledge,  but  he 
that  hateth  reproof  is  brutish;"  Prov.  xii.  1.  "He  that,  being 
often  reproved,  hardeneth  his  neck,  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed, 
and  that  without  remedy;"  Prov.  xxix.  1. 

Xn.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  unfeignedly  desireth  to 
attain  to  the  highest  degree  of  holiness,  and  to  be  perfectly  freed 
from  every  thing  that  is  sin.  He  desireth  perfection,  though  not 
with  a  perfect  desire.  He  sitteth  not  down  contentedly  in  any  low 
degree  of  grace.  He  looketh  on  the  holiest  (how  poor  soever) 
with  much  more  reverence  and  esteem  than  on  the  most  rich  and 
honorable  in  the  world ;  and  he  had  far  rather  be  one  of  the  most 
holy,  than  one  of  the  most  prosperous  and  great :  he  had  rather 
be  a  Paul  or  Timothy,  than  a  Caesar  or  an  Alexander.  He  com- 
plaineth  of  nothing  with  so  much  sorrow,  as  that  he  can  know  and 
love  his  God  no  more.  How  happy  an  exchange  would  he  count  it, 
if  he  had  more  of  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God,  though  he  lost 
all  his  wealth  and  honor  in  the  world !  His  smallest  sins  are  a 
greater  burden  to  him  than  his  greatest  corporal  wants  and  suffer- 
ings ;  as  Paul,  who,  because  he  could  not  perfectly  fulfill  God's 
law,  and  be  as  good  as  he  \vould,  he  crieth  out,  as  in  bondage, 
"  O  wretched  man  that  l.am  ;  who  shall  deliver  me  from  (he  body 
of  this  death?"  Rom.  vii.  24. 

2.  And  for  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  is  habitually  and  re- 
solvedly of  the  same  mind,  yet,  alas!  his  desires  after  perfection 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIANT.  •  493 

are  much  more  languid  in  him ;  and  he  hath  too  much  patience  and 
reconciledness  to  some  of  his  sins,  and  sometimes  taketh  them  to 
be  sweet ;  so  that  his  enmfty  to  his  pride,  or  covetousness,  or  pas- 
sion, is* much  abated,  and  sufFereth  his  sin  to  waste  his  grace,  and 
wound  his  conscience,  and  hinder  much  of  his  communion  with 
God.  Hfe  seeth  not  the  odiousness  of  sin,  nor  the  beauty  of  hoh- 
ness,  with  so  clear  a  sight  as  the  confirmed  Christian  doth :  he 
hateth  sin  more  for  the  ill  effects  of  it,  than  for  its  malignant,  hate- 
ful nature  :  he  seeth  not  clearly  the  intrinsic  evil  that  is  in  sin, 
which  maketh  it  deserve  the  pains  of  hell ;  nor  doth  he  d'scern  the 
difference  between  a  holy  and  unholy  soul,  so  clearly  as  the  strong- 
er Christian  doth  ;  1  Cor.  iii.  2,  3.     Heb.  xii.  1.  . 

3.  And  as  for  the  seeming  Christian,  though  he  may  approve 
of  perfect  holiness  in  another,  and  may  wish  for  it  himself,  when 
he^hinketh  of  it  but  in  the  general,  and  not  as  it  is  exclusive  and 
destructive  of  his  beloved  sin ;  yet,  when  it  cometh  to  particulars, 
he  cannot  away  with  it :  he  is  so  far  froni  desiring  it,  that  he  will 
^not  endure  it.  The  name  of  holiness  he  liketh  ;  and  that  preser- 
vation from  hell  which  is  the  consequent  of  it ;  but  when  he  und'er- 
standeth  what  it  is,  he  hath  no  mind  of  it.  That  holiness  which 
should  cure  his  ambition  and  pride,  and  make  him  contented  with 
a  low  condition,  he  doth  not  hke  ;■  he  loveth  not  that  holiness 
which  would  deprive  him  of  his  covetousness,  his  intemperance* in 
pleasant  meats  and  drinks,  his  fleshly  lusts,  and  inordinate  pleasures ; 
nor  doth  he  desire  that  holiness  should  employ  his  soul  in  the 
love  of  God,  and  in  daily  prayer,  and  meditating  on  his  word,  and 
raise  him  to  a  heavenly  life  on  earth. 

XIII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  maketh  God  and 
heaven  the  end,  reward,  and  motive  of  his  life;*  and  liveth  not  in 
the  world  for  any  thing  in  the  world,  but  for  that  endless  happi- 
ness which  the  next  world  only  can  afford.  The  reasons  which 
actuate  his  thoughts,  and  choice,  and  all  his  life,  are  fetched  from 
heaven.  The  interest  of  God  and  his  soul  as  to  eternity  is  the 
ruling  interest  in  him.  As  a  traveler  goeth  all  the  way,  and  bear- 
eth  all  the  difficulties  of  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  end  or  place  that 
he  is  going  to,  (however  he  may  talk  of  many  other  matters  by 
the  way,)  so  is  it  with  a  Christian  ;  he  knoweth  nothing  worthy  of 
his  life  and  labors,  but  that  which  he  hopeth  for  hereafter.  This 
world  is  too  sinful,  and  too  vile  and  short  to  be  his  felicity.  His 
'very  trade  and  work  in  the  world  is  to  lay  up  a  treasure  in  heaven, 
(Matt.  vi.  20.)  "  and  to  lay  up  a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to 
come,  and  to  lay  hold  on  eternal  life; "  (1  Tim.  vi.  19.)  and  there- 
fore his  very  heart  is  there,  (Matt.  vi.  21.)  and  he  is  employed 
in  seeking  and  setting  his  affections  on  the  things  above  ;  (Col.  iii. 
1 — 3.)  and  his  conversation  and  traffic  are  in  heaven  ;   (Phil.  iii. 


494  CHARACTER   OF    A    SOUND, 

20,  21.)  "  he  looketh  not  at  the  things  which  are  seen,  which  are 
temporal,  but  at  the  things  which  are  not  seen,  which  are  eternal ; '' 
(2  Cor.  iv.  18.)  he  is  a  stranger  upon  earth,  and  heaven  is  to  him 
as  his  home. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  also  hath  the  same  end,-  and  hope,  and 
motive ;  and  preferreth  his  hopes  of  the  life  to  come  before  all  the 
wealth  and  pleasures  of  this  life  ;  but  yet  his  thoughts  of  heaven 
are  much  more  strange  and  dull :  he  hath  so  much  doubting  and 
fear  yet  n}ixed  with  his  faith  and  hope,  that  he  looketh  before  him 
to  his  everlasting  state,  with  backwardness  and  trouble,  and  with 
small  desire  and  delight.  He  hath  so  much  hope  of  heaven,  as  to 
abate  his  fears  of  hell,  and  make  him  think  of  eternity  with  more 
quietness  than  he  could  do,  if  he  found  himself  unregenerate ;  but 
not  so  much  as  to  make  his  thoughts  of  heaven  so  free,  and  sweet, 
and  frequent,  nor  his  desires  after  it  so  strong,  as  the  confirmed 
Christian's  are  ;  and  therefore  his  duties,  and  his  speech  of  heaven, 
and  his  endeavors  to  ob^in  it,  are  all  more  languid  and  unconstant; 
and  he  is  much  more  prone  to  fall  in  love  with  earth,  and  to  enter- 
tain the  motions  of  reconciliation  to  the  world,  and  to  have  his 
heart  too  much  set  upon  some  place,  or  person,  or  thing  below,  and 
to  be  either  delighted  too  much  in  the  possession  of  it'  or  afflicted 
and  troubled  too  much  with  the  loss  of  it:  earthly  things  are  too 
mflch  the  motives  of  his  life,  and  the  reasons  of  his  joys  and  griefs; 
though  he  hath  the  true  belief  of  a  life  to  come,  and  it  prevaileth 
in  the  main  against  the  world,  yet  it  is  but  little  that  he  useth  to 
the  commanding,  and  raising,  and  comforting  his  soul,  in  compari- 
son of  what  a  strong  believer  doth  ;  Matt.  xvi.  22,  23. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  would  serve  God  and  mammon, 
and  placeth  his  chief  and  most  certain  happiness  practically  on  earth. 
Though  speculatively  he  know  and  say,  that  heaven  is  better,  yet 
doth  he  not  practically  judge  it  to  be  so  to  him ;  and  therefore  he 
loveth  the  world  above  it,  and  he  doth  most  carefully  lay  up  a  treasure 
on  earth  ;  (Matt.  vi.  19.)  and  is  resolved  first  to  seek  and  secure  his 
portion  here  below ;  and  yet  he  taketh  heaven  for  a  reserve,  as 
knowing  that  the  world  will  cast  him  off  at  last,  and  die  he  must, 
there  is  no  remedy  ;  and  therefore  he  taketh  heaven  as  nej^t  unto 
the  best,  as  his  second  hope,  as  better  than  hell,  and  will  go  in  re- 
ligion as  far  as  he  can,  without  the  loss  of  his  prosperity  here ;  so 
that  earth  and  flesh  do  govern  and  command  the  design  and  tenor 
of  his  life  ;  but  heaven  and  his  soul  shall  have  all  that  they  can 
spare ;  which  may  be  enough  to  make  him  pass  with  men  for  one 
eminently  religious  ;  1  John  ii.  15.  Matt.  xiii.  22.  Luke  xviii. 
22,  23.  xiv.  24.  33.'    Psal.  xvii.  14.    Phil.  iii.  18—20. 

XIV.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that,  having  taken  heaven 
for  his  felicitv,  doth  account  no  labor  or  cost  too  great  for  the  ob- 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN-  495 

laining  of  it.  He  hath  nothing  so  dear  to  liini  in  this  world,  which 
he  cannot  spare  and  part  with  for  God  and  the  world  to  come.  He 
doth  not  only  notionally  know  that  nothing  should  seem  too  dear  or 
hard  for  the  securing  of  our  salvation  ;  but  he  knoweth  this  prac- 
tically, and  is  resolved  accordingly.  Though  difficulties  may  hin- 
der him  in  particular  acts,  and  his  executions  come  not  up  to  the 
height  of  his  desires,  (Rom.  vii.  16,  17,  &i.c.,)  yet  he  is  resolved 
that  he, will  never  break  terms  with  Christ.  There  is  no  duty  so 
hard  which  he  is  not  willing  and  resolved  to  perform  ;.and  no  sin 
so  sweet  or  gainful  which  he  is  not  willing  to  forsake :  he  knoweth 
how  unprofitable  a  bargain  he  makes,  who  winneth  the  world,  and 
loseth  his  own  soul ;  and  that  no  gain  can  ransom  his  soul,  or  rec- 
ompense him  for  the  loss  of  his  salvation  ;  Mark  viii.  36.  He 
knoweth  that  it  is  impossible  to' be  a  loser  by  God,  or  to  purchase 
heaven  at  too  dear  a  rate :  he  knoweth  that  whatsoever  it  cost  him, 
heaven  will  fully  pay  for  all ;  and  that  it  is  the  worldling's  labor, 
and  not  the  saint's,  that  is  repented  of  at  last.  He  marveleth  more 
at  distracted  sinners,  for  making  such  a  stir  for  wealth,  and  honors, 
and  command,  than  they  marvel  at  him  for  making  so  much  ado 
for  heaven.  Hie  knoweth  that  this  world  may  be  too  dearly  bought, 
but  so  cannot  his  salvation :  yea,  he  knoweth  that  even  our  duty 
itself  is  not  our  smallest  privilege  and  mercy;  and  that  the  more 
we  do  for  God,  the  more  we  receive,  and  the  greater  is  our  gain 
and  honor ;  and  that  the  sufferings  of  believers  for  righteousness' 
sake,  do  not  only  prognosticate  their  joys  in  heaven,  but  occasion 
here  the  greatest  joys  that  any  short  of  heaven  partake  of;  Matt. 
V.  11,  12.  Rom.  v.  1 — 3,  he.  He  is  not  one  that  desireth  the 
end  without  the  means,  and  would  be  saved,  so  it  may  be  on  cheap 
and  easy  terms ;  but  he  absolutely  yieldeth  to  the  tei'ms  of  Christ, 
and  saith  with  Austin,  '  Da  quod  jubes,  et  jube  quod  vis  ; '  '  Cause 
me  to  do  what  thou  commandest,  and  command  what  thou  wilt.' 
Though  Pelagius  contradicted  the  first  sentence,  and  the  flesh  the 
second,  yet  Augustine  owned  both,  and  so  doth  every  true  believ- 
er :  he  greatly  complaineth  of  his  backwardness  to  obey,  but  never 
complaineth  of  the  strictness  of  the  command.  He  loveth  the 
holiness,  justness  and  goodness  of  the  laws,  when  he  bewaileth  the 
unholiness  and  badness  of  his  heart:  he  desireth  not  God  to  com- 
mand him  less,  but  desireth  grace  and  ability  to  do  more.  He  is 
so  far  from  the  mind  of  the  ungodly  world,  who  cry  out  against 
too  much  holiness,  and  making  so  much  ado  for  heaven,  that  he 
desireth  even  to  reach  to  the  degree  of  angels,  and  would  fain  have 
"God's  will  to  be  done  on  earth,  as  it  is  done  in  heaven;"  and 
therefore  the  more  desireth  to  be  in  heaven,' that  he  may  do  it 
better ;  Psal.  cxix.  5.     Rom.  vii.  24. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  hath  the  same  estimation  and  resolution ; 


4 


496  CHARACTER   Of    A    SOUND, 

but  when  it  comes  to  practice,  as  his  will  is  less  confirmed,  and  more 
corrupted  and  divided,  so  little  impediments  and  difficulties  are 
great  temptations  to  him,  and  stop  him  more  in-  the  way  of  his 
obedience.  All  his  duty  is  much  more  tedious  to  him,  and  all  his 
sufferings  are  much  more  burdensome  to  him,  than  to  confirmed 
Christians ;  and  therefore  he  is  more  easily  tempted  into  omissions 
and  impatience,  and  walketh'not  so  evenly  or  comfortably  with 
God.  When  the  spirit  is  willing,  it  yieldeth  oft  to  the  wjsakness 
of  the  flesh,  because  it  is  willing  in  too  remiss  a  degree ;  Matt, 
xxvi.  41.     Gal.  ii.  14. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian,  though  notionally  and  generally 
he  may  approve  of  strictness,  yet  secretly  at  the -heart  hath  always 
this  reserve,  that  he  will  not  serve  God  at  too  dear  a  rate.  His 
"worldly  felicity  he  cannot  part  with-,  for  all  the  hopes  of  the  life  to 
come ;  and  yet  he  will  not,  he  dare  not  renounce  and  give  up  those 
hopes ;  and  therefore  he  maketh  himself  a  religion  of  the  easiest 
and  cheapest  parts  of  Christianity,  (among  which,  sometimes,  the 
strictest  opinions  may  fall  out  to  be  one  part,  so  be  it  they  be 
separated  from  the  strictest  practice  ;)  and  this  easy,  cheap  religion 
he  will  needs  believe  to  be  true  Christianity  and  godliness,  and  so 
wilt  hope  to  be  saved  upon  these  terms :  and  though  he  cannot 
but  know  that  it  is  the  certain  character  of  a  hypocrite,  to  have 
any  thing  nearer  and  dearer  to  his  heart,  than  God,  yet  he  hopeth 
that  it  is  not  so  with  hfm,  because  his  convinced  judgment  can  say, 
that  God  is  best,  and  the  world  is  vanity,  while  yet  his  heart  and 
affections  so  much  contradict  his  opinion,  as  almost  to  say,  "  There 
is  no  God  ; "  for  his  heart  knoweth  and  loveth  no  God  as  God, 
that  is,  above  his  worldly  happiness.  He  is  resolved  to  do  so 
.  much  in  religion  as  he  findeth  necessary  to  delude  his  conscience, 
and  make  himself  believe  that  he  is  godly,  and  shall  be  saved ; 
but  when  he  cometh  to  forsake  all,  and  take  up  the  cross,  and 
practice  the  costliest  parts  of  duty,  then  you  shall  see  that  mammon 
was  better  loved  than  God,  and  he  will  go  away  sorrowful,  and 
hope  to  be  saved  upon  easier  terms,  (Luke  xviii.  23.)  for  he  was 
never  resigned  absolutely  to  God. 

XV.  1.  A  confirmed  Christian  is  one  that  taketh  self-denial  for 
the  one  half  of  his  religion  ;  and  therefore  hath  bestowed  one  half  of 
his  endeavors  to  attain  and  exercise  it.  He  knoweth  that  the  fall  of 
man  was  a  turning  to  himself  from  God ;  and  that  selfishness  and 
want  of  love  to  God  are  the  sum  of  all  corruption  and  ungodliness ; 
and  that  the  love  of  God  and  self-denial  are  the  sum  of  all  religion  ; 
and  that  conversion  is  nothing  but  the  turning  of  the  heart  from  car- 
nal self  to  God  by  Christ :  and  therefore  on  this  hath  his  care  and 
labor  been  so  successfully  laid  out,  that  he  hath  truly  and  practically 
found  out  something  which  is  much  better  than  himself,  and  to  be 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  407 

loved  and  preferred  before  himself,  and  wliich  is  to  be  his  chief  and 
ultimate  end.  He  maketh  not  a  God  of  himself  any  more,  but  usctli 
himself  for  God,  to  fulfill  his  will,  as  a  creature  of  his  own,  that  hath 
no  other  end  and  use :  he  no  more  preferreth  himself  above  all  the 
world,  but  esteemeth  himself  a  poor  and  despicable  part  of  the 
world,  and  more  hi<,dily  valueth  the  honor  of  God,  and  the  welfare 
of  the  church,  and  the  good  of  many,  than  any  interest  of  his  own. 
Though  God  in  nature  hath  taught  him  to  regard  his  own  felicity, 
and  to  love  himself,  and  not  to  seek  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good 
of  many  soids  in  opposition  to  his  own,  yet  he  hath  taught  him  to 
prefer  them  (though  in  conjunction)  much  before  his  own  ;  for 
reason  telleth  him  that  man  is  nothing  in  comijarison  of  God,  and 
that  we  are 'made  by  him  and  for  him,  and  that  the  welfare  of  the 
church  or  public  societies  is  better  (in  order  to  the  highest  ends) 
than  the  welfare  of  some  one.  Selfishness  in  the  unregenerate  is 
like  an  inflammation  or  imposthume,  which  draweth  the  humors 
from  other  parts  of  the  body  to  itself:  the  interest  of  God  and  man 
are  all  swallowed  up  in  the  regard  that  men  have  to  self-interest; 
and  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbor  is  turned  into  self-love. 
But  self  is  as  annihilated  in  the  confirmed  Christian,  so  that  it 
ruleth  not  his  judgment,  his  affections,  or  his  choice  ;  and  he  that 
lived  in  and  to  himself,  as  if  God  and  all'  the  world  were  but  for 
him,  doth  now  live  to  God,  as*  one  that  is  good  for  nothing  else, 
and  findeth  himself  in  seeking  him  that  is  infinitely  above  himself; 
Luke  xiv.  31— ;33.     Phil.  ii.  4.  21. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  hath  attained  to  so  much  self-denial, 
that  self  is  not  predominant  in  him  against  the  love  of  God  and  his 
neighbor ;  but  yet  above  all  other  sins,  too  great  a  measure  of  self- 
ishness still  remaineth  in  him.  These  words  '  own,  and  mine,  and 
self, '  are  too  significant  with  him  •  every  thing  of  his  own  is  regard- 
ed inordinately,  with  partiality,  and  too  much  selfishness.  A  word 
against  himself,  or  an  injury  to  himself,  is  more  to  him  than  worse 
against  his  brother:  he  is- too  little  mindful  of  the  glory  of  God, 
and  of  the  public  good,  and  the  souls  of  otliers ;  and  even  when  he 
is  mindful  of  his  ow-n  soul,  he  is  too  regardless  of  the  souls  of  many, 
that  by  prayer,  or  exhortation,  or  other  means,  he  ought  to  help: 
as  a  small  candle  lighteth  but  a  little  way,  and  a  small  fire  heateth 
not  far  off,  so  is  his  love  so  much  confined,  that  it  reacheth  not  far 
from  him :  he  valuetli  his  friends  too  much  upon  their  respect  to 
please  himself,  and  loveth  men  too  much,  as  they  are  partial  for 
him ;  and  too  little  upon  the  pure  account  of  grace,  and  their  love 
to  Christ  and  serviceableness  to  the  church.  He  easily  overvalueth 
his  own  abilities,  and  is  too  confident  of  his  own  understanding, 
and  apt  to  have  too  high  conceits  of  any  opinions  that  are  his  own  : 
he  is  too  apt  to  be  tempted  unto  uncharitableness  against  those 
VOL.  I.  63 


498  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

that  cross  him  in  his  interest  or  way.  He  is  apt  to  be  too  negligent 
in  the  work  of  God,  when  any  self-interest  doth  stand  against  it ; 
and  too  much  to  seek  himself,  his  own  esteem,  or  his  own  com- 
modity, when  he  should  devote  himself  to  the  good  of  souls,  and 
give  up  himself  to  the  work  of  God :  though  he  is  not  like  the 
hypocrite,  that  preferreth  himself  before  the  will  of  God  and  the 
common  good,  yet  selfishness  greatly  stoppeth,  interrupteth,  and 
hindereth  him  in  God's  work ;  and  any  great  danger,  or  loss,  or 
shame,  or  other  concernment  of  his  own,  doth  seem  a  greater  mat- 
ter to  him,  and  oftener  turn  him  out  of  the  way,  than  it  will  with  a 
confirmed  Christian.  They  were  not  all  hypocrites  that  Paul 
speaketh  of  in  that  sad  complaint,  "  For  I  have  no  man  like-mind- 
ed, (to  Timothy,)  who  will  naturally  care  for  your  state ;  for  all 
seek  their  own,  not  the  things  w^hich  are  Jesus  Christ's ; "  (Phil. 
ii.  20,  21.)  that  is,  they  too  much  seek  their  own,  and  not  entirely 
enough  the  things  that  are  Christ's ;  which  Timothy  did  naturally, 
as  if  he  had  been  born  to  it ;  and  grace  had  made  the  love  of  Christ, 
and  the  souls  of  men,  and  the  good  of  others,  as  natural  to  him  as 
the  love  of  himself.  Alas  !  how  loudly  do  their  own  distempers, ' 
and  soul-miscarriages,  and  the  divisions  and  calamities  of  the  church, 
proclaim,  that  the  weaker  sort  of  Christians  have  yet  too  much 
selfishness,  and  that  self-denial  is  lamentably  imperfect  in  them. 

3.  But  in  the  seeming  Christian'  selfishness  is  still  the  predomi- 
nant principle  :  he  loveth  God  but  for  himself;  and  he  never  had 
any  higher  end  than  self:  all  his  religion,  his  opinions,  his  practice, 
is  animated  by  self-love,  and  governed  by  it,  even  by  the  love  of 
carnal  self.  Self-esteem,  self-conceitedness,  self-love,  self-willed- 
ness,  self-seeking,  and  self-saving,  are  the  constitution  of  his  heart 
and  life.  He  will  be  of  that  opinion,  and  way  and  party  in  religion, 
which  selfishness  directeth  him  to  choose.  He  will  go  no  further 
in  religion  than  self-interest  and  safety  will  allow  him  to  go.  He 
can  change  his  friend,  and  turn  his  love  into  hatred,  and  his  praises 
into  reproach,  whenever  self-interest  shall  require  it.  He  can  make 
himself  believe,  and  labor  to  make  others  believe,  that  the  wisest 
and  holiest  servants  of  God  are  erroneous,  humorous  hypocrites, 
and  insufferable,  if  they  do  but  stand  cross  to  his  opinions  and 
interest ;  for  he  judgeth  of  them,  and  loveth  or  hateih  them,  princi- 
pally as  they  conform  to  his  will  and  interest,  or  as  they  are  against 
it.  As  the  godly  measure  all  persons  and  things  by  the  will  and 
interest  of  God,  so  do  all  ungodly  men  esteem  them  as  they  stand 
in  reference  to  themselves.  When  their  factious  interest  required 
it,  the  Jews,  and  especially  the  Pharisees,  could  make  themselves 
and  others  believe,  that  the  Son  of  God  himself  was  a  breaker  of 
the  law,  and  an  enemy  to  Caesar,  and  a  blasphemer,  and  unworthy 
to  live  on  the  earth  ;  and  that  Paul  was  a  pestilent  fellow,  and  a 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  4y^ 

mover  of  sedition  auionij;  the  people,  and  a  ringleader  of  a  sect,  and 
a  profancr  oi'  the  temple;  (Acts  xxiv.  5,  6.)  and -which  of  the 
prophets  and  apostles  did  they  not, persecute  ?  Because  Christ's 
doctrine  doth  cross  the  interest  of  selfish  men,  therefore  the  world 
doth  so  generally  rise  up  against  it  with  indignation,  even  as  a 
country  will  rise  against  an  invading  enemy ;  for  he  cometh  to  take 
away  that  which  is  dearest  to  them ;  as  it  is  said  of  Luther,  that  he 
meddled  with  the  pope's  crown,  and  the  friars'  bellies  ;  and  there- 
fore no  wonder  if  they  swarmed  all  about  his  ears.  Selfishness  is 
so  general  aiid  deeply  rooted,  that  (except  with  a  few  self-denying 
saints)  self-love  and  self-interest  rule  the  world.  And  if  you 
would  know  how  to  please  a  graceless  man,  serve  but  his  carnal 
interest,  and  you  have  done  it :  be  of  his  opinion,  (or  take  on  you 
to  be  so,)  applaud  him,  admire  him,  flatter  him,  obey  him,  promote 
his  preferment,  honor  and  wealth,  be  against  his  enemies ;  in  a 
word,  make  him  your  god,  E^nd  sell  your  soul  to  gain  his  favor, 
and  so  it  is  possible  you  may  gain  it. 

XVI.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  hath  so  far  mortified  the  flesh,  and 
brought  all  his  senses  and  appetites  into  subjection  to  sanctified 
reason,  as  that  there  is  no  great  rebellion  or  perturbation  in  his 
mind ;  but  a  little  matter,  a  hoi)'"  thought,  or  a  word  from  God. 
doth  presently  rebuke  and  quiet  his  inordinate  desires.  The  flesh 
is  as  a  well-broken  and  well-ridden  horse,  that  goeth  on  his  jour- 
ney obediently  and  quietly,  and  not  with  strivings  and  chafing,  and 
vexatious  resisting :  though  ?till  flesh  will  be  flesh,  and  will  be 
weak,  and  will  fight  against  the  Spirit,  so  that  we  cannot  do  all  the 
good  we  would;  (Isa.  v.  17.  Rom.  vii.  16,  17,  &:c.)  yet  in  the 
confirmed  Christian,  it  is  so  far  tamed  and  subdued,  that  its  rebel- 
lion is  much  less,  and  its  resistance  weaker,  and  more  easily  over- 
come :  it  causeth  not  any  notable  unevenness  in  his  obedience,  nor 
blemishes  in  his  life :  it  is  no  other  than  consisteth  with  a  readiness 
to  obey  the  will  of  God  ;  Gal.  v.  24,  25.  1  Cor.  ix.  26,  27. 
"  They  that  are  Christ's  have  crucified  the  flesh,  with  the  affections 
and  lusts  thereof:  they  run  not  as  uncertainly ;  they  fight  not  as 
one  that  beateth  the  air ;  but  they  keep  under  their  bodies,  and 
bring  them  into  subjection,  lest  by  any  means  they  should  be  cast- 
aways. They  put  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  make  no  provis- 
ion for  the  flesh  to  fulfill  the  lusts  thereof: "  Rom.  xiii.  13,  14. 
As  we  see,  to  a  temperate  man,  how  sweet  and  easy  temperance  is, 
when,  to  a  glutton,  or  drunkard,  or  riotous  liver,  It  is  exceeding  hard, 
so  it  is  in  all  other  points  with  a  confirmed  Christian.  He  hath  so 
far  crucified  the  flesh,  that  it  is  as  dead  to  its  former  lusts ;  and  so 
far  mastered  it,  that  it  doth  easily  and  quickly  yield.  And  this 
maketh  the  life  of  such  a  Christian  not  only  pure,  but  very  easy 
to  him,  in  comparison  of  other  men's :  nay,  more  than  this,  he  can 


500  CHARACTEU    OF    A    SOUND, 

use  his  sense  (as  he  can  use  the  world,  the  objects  of  sense)  in 
subserviency  to  faith  and  his  salvation.  His  eye  doth' but  open  a 
window  to  his  mind,  to  behold  and  admire  the  Creator  in  his  work. 
His  taste  of  the  sweetness  of  the  creatures  is  but  a  means  by 
which  the  sweeter  love  of  God  doth  pass  directly  to  his  heart. 
His  sense  of  pleasure  is  but  the  passage  of  spiritual,  holy  pleasure 
to  his  mind.  His  sense  of  bitterness  and  pain  is  but  the  messenger 
to  tell  his  heart  of  the  bitterness  and  vexatiousness  of  sin.  As 
God,  in  the  creation  of  us,  made  our  senses  but  as  the  inlet  and 
passage  for  himself  into  our  minds,  (even  as  he  made  all  the  crea- 
tures to  represent  him  to  us  by  this  passage,)  so  grace  doth  restore 
our  very  senses  (with  the  creature)  to  this  their  holy,  original  use  ; 
that  the  goodness  of  God,  through  the  goodness  of  the  creature, 
may  pass  to  our  hearts,  and  be  the  effect  and  end  of  all. 

2.  But  for  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  have  mortified  the 
deeds  of  the  body  by  the  Spirit,  and  liveth  not  after  the  flesh,  but 
be  freed  from  its  captivity  or  reign,  (Gal.  v.  24.  Rom.  viii.  1. 
7 — 13.)  yet  hath  he  such  remnants  of  concupiscence  and  sensual- 
ity as  make  it  a  far  harder  matter  to  him  to  live  in  temperance, 
and  deny  his  appetite,  and  govern  his  senses,  and  restrain  them 
from  rebellion  and  excess :  he  is  like  a  weak  man  upon  an  ill- 
ridden,  headstrong  horse,  who  hath  much  ado  to  keep  his  saddle 
and  keep  his  way.  He  is  more  strongly  inclined  to  fleshly  lusts, 
or  excess  in  meat,  or  drink,  or  sleep,  or  sports,  or  some  fleshly 
pleasure,  than  the  mortified,  temperate  person  is,  and  therefore  is 
oftener  guilty  of  some  excess ;  so  that  his  life  is  a  very  tiresome 
conflict,  and  very  uneasy  to  himself,  because  the  less  the  flesh  is 
mortified,  the  more  able  it  is  to  raise  perturbations,  and  to  put  faith 
and  reason  to  a  continual  flight.  And  most  of  the  scandals  and 
blemishes  of  his  life  arise  from  hence,  even  the  successes  of  the 
flesh  against  the  Spirit ;  so  that,  though  he  live  not  in  any  gross 
or  willful  sins,  yet  in  lesser  measures  of  excess  he  is  too  frequently 
overtaken :  how  few  be  there  that  in  meat  and  sleep  do  not  usually 
exceed  their  measure?  And  they  are  easily  tempted  to  libertine 
opinions,  which  indulge  the  flesh,  having  a  weaker  preservative 
against  them  than  stronger  Christians  have ;  Matt.  xvi.  22,  23. 
Gal.  V.  13.  i.  16.  ii.  12—14.     Col.  ii.  11. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  really  carnal.  The  flesh  is  the 
predominant  part  with  him ;  and  the  interest  of  the  flesh  is  the 
ruling  interest.  He  washeth  away  the  outward  filth,  and,  in  hope 
of  salvation,  will  be  as  religious  as  the  flesh  will  give  him  leave ; 
and  will  deny  it  in  some  smaller  matters,  and  will  serve  it  in  a 
religious  way,  and  not  in  so  gross  and  impudent  a  manner  as  the 
atheists  and  openly  profane.  But  for  all  that,  he  never  conquered 
the  flesli  indeed,  but  seeketh  its  prosperity  more  than  the  pleasing 


CONriRMED    CHRISTIAN.  501 

of  God,  and  his  salvation ;  and  among  prayers,  and  sermons,  and 
holy  conference,  and  books,  yea,  and  tonnal  fastings  too,  he  is 
serving  the  flesh  with  so  much  the  more  dangerous  impenitency, 
by  how  much  the  more  his  cloak  of  formality  hindereth  him  from 
the  discerning  of  his  sin :  many  an  one  that  is  of  unblemished 
reputation  in  religion,  doth  constantly  serve  his  appetite  in  meat 
and  drink,  (though  without  any  notable  excess,)  and  his  fleshly 
mind  in  the  pleasure  of  his  dwelling,  wealth,  and  accommodations, 
as  much  as  some  profane  ones  do,  if  not  much  more.  And  when- 
ever it  Cometh  to  a  parting  trial,  they  will  show  that  the  flesh  was 
the  ruling  part,  and  will  venture  their  souls  to  secure  its  interest ; 
Luke  xviii.  23.  xiv.  33.  Rom.  viii.  5—7.  9.  13.  Matt.  xiii.  21, 
22.     Jude  19. 

XVII.  1.  Hence  it  followeth  that  a  Christian  indeed  preferreth 
the  means  of  his  spiritual  benefit  and  salvation  incomparably  before 
all  corporal  commodities  and  pleasures.  He  had  rather  dwell 
under  the  teaching  and  guidance  of  an  able,  experienced  pastor, 
though  it  be  cross  to  his  prosperity  and  worldly  gain,  than  to  live 
under  an  ignorant  or  dead-hearted  preacher,  when  it  furthereth  his 
trading  or  more  acccmmodateth  his  flesh :  (though  yet  he  must  not 
remove  when  God  layeth  any  restraint  upon  him,  by  his  duty  to 
his  family,  or  others :)  hs  had  rather,  if  he  be  a  servant,  dwell  in  a 
family  where  he  may  do  or  receive  most  spiritual  good,  than  in  a 
carnal  family,  where  he  may  have  more  ease,  and  better  fare,  and 
greater  wages.  If  he  be  to  marry,  he  had  rather  have  one  that 
hath  wisdom  and  piety  withojt  wealth,  than  one  that  hath  riches 
without  wisdom  and  piety.  He  is  more  glad  of  an  opportunity  (in 
public  or  private)  for  the  profit  of  his  soul,  than  of  a  feast,  or  a  good 
bargain,  or  an  opportunity  fo-  some  gain  in  worldly  things ;  Matt. 
vi.  20.  33. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  of  the  same  mind  in  the  main. 
He  valueth  mercies  and  helps  for  his  soul  above  those  for  his  body. 
But  it  is  with  less  zeal,  and  more  indifference  ;  and,  therefore,  is 
more  easily  and  ofter  drawn  to  the  omitting  of  spiritual  duties,  and 
neglect  of  spiritual  helps  and  mercies ;  and  goeth  to  them  with 
more  averseness,  and  as  driven  by  necessity,  and  is  much  less 
sensible  of  his  loss,  when  he  misseth  of  any  such  spiritual  helps; 
Luke  X.  41,  42.     Heb.  x.  25.     Acts  ii.  42.  iv.  32. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian,  being  a  real  worldling,  doth  serve 
God  and  mammon ;  and  mammon  with  the  first  and  best.  He  had 
rather  miss  a  sermon  than  a  good  bargain  or  commodity :  he  had 
rather  dwell  where  he  may  thrive  best,  or  have  most  ease  and 
pleasure,  than  where  he  may  find  the  greatest  helps  for  heaven  :  he 
will  be  religious,  but  it  must  be  with  an  easy,  and  a  pleasant,  and  a 
merry  religion,  which  may  not  be  too  niggardly  with  his  flesh,  nor 


502  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

use  it  too  strictly ;  unless  when  one  day's  austerity  may  procure  hiui 
an  indulgence  for  his  liberty  all  the  week  following.  He  will  make 
his  bargain  with  Christ,  so  as  to  be  sure  that  he  may  not  lose  by 
him  ;  and  he  will  not  believe  that  God  is  pleased'  with  that  which 
is  much  displeasing  to  his  flesh ;  Rom.  viii.  5 — 8.  13.  Matt.  xiii. 
21,  22. 

XVIII.  1.  The  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  is  crucified  to  the 
world,  and  the  world  is  as  a  crucified  thing  to  him  ;  Gal.  vi.  14. 
He  hath  overcome  the  world  by  faith,  and  followeth  Christ  in  the 
pursuit  of  it,  to  a  perfect  conquest ;  1  John  v.  4,  5.  John  xvi.  33. 
He  has  seen  through  all  its  glossing  vanity,  and  foreseen  what  it  will 
prove  at  last.  He  hath  found  that  it  cannot  quiet  conscience,  nor 
reconcile  the  guilty  soul  to  God,  nor  save  it  from  his  consuming 
wrath;  nor  serve  instead  of  God  or  heaven,  of  Christ  or  grace  ;  but 
will  cast  off  its  servants  in  their  last  extremity,  naked  and  desolate, 
into  remediless  despair.  And,  therefore,  he  is  resolvedly  at  a  point 
with  all  things  under  the  sun.  Let  them  take  the  world  for  their 
portion  and  felicity  that  will ;  for  his  part,  he  accounteth  all  things 
in  it  dung  and  dross,  in  comparison  of  Christ  and  things  eternal ; 
Phil.  iii.  7,  8.  19,  20.  All  the  preferments,  and  honors,  and 
command,  and  wealth,  and  greatness  of  the  world,  do  not  seem  to 
him  a  bait  considerable,  to  make  a  wise  man  once  question  whether 
he  should  persevere  in  faithfulness  to  God,  or  to  tempt  him  to  com- 
mit one  willful  sin.  He  would  not  speak,  or  own  a  lie,  or  approve 
the  sin  of  another,  for  all  that  worldlings  enjoy  in  their  greatest 
prosperity  while  they  live.  He  accounteth  his  peace  with  God 
and  conscience,  and  his  communion  with  Christ  in  the  greatest 
poverty,  to  be  incomparably  better  than  all  the  pleasures  and  com- 
modities of  sin  ;  yea,  the  very  reproach  of  Christ  is  better  to  him 
than  all  the  treasures  of  court  or  country ;  Heb.  xi.  25,  26.  Grace 
hath  mortified  and  annihilated  the  world  to  him.  And  that  which 
is  dead  and  nothing,  can  do  nothing  with  him  against  God  and  his 
soul.  He  looketh  on  it  as  a  carrion,  which  dogs  may  love  and  fight 
for,  but  is  unfit  to  be  the  food  of  man.  He  is  going  to  the  land  of 
promise,  and  therefore  will  not  contend  for  an  inheritance  in  this 
howling  wilderness.  Whether  he  be  high  or  low,  rich  or  poor, 
are  so  small  a  part  of  his  concernments,  that  he  is  almost  indiffer- 
ent to  them,  further  than  as  the  interest  of  God  and  souls  may  ac- 
cidentally be  concerned  in  them.  The  world  set  against  God,  and 
heaven,  and  holiness,  doth  weigh  no  more,  in  his  estimation,  than  a 
feather  that  is  put  in  the  balance  against  a  mountain,  or  all  the 
world.  He  feeleth  no  great  force  in  such  temptations,  as  would 
draw  him  to  win  the  world,  and  lose  his  soul.  His  eye  and  heart 
are  where  his  God  and  treasure  are,  above  ;  and  worldly  wealth  and 
greatness  are  below  him,  even  under  his  feet.     He  thinketh  not 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  oOJ^ 

things  temporal  worth  the  looking  at,  in  comparison  of  things  eternal ; 
2  Cor.  iv.  18.  He  thinketh  that  their  money  and  riches  do  deserv- 
edly })erish  with  them,  who  think  all  the  money  in  the  world  to  be 
a  thing  comparable  with  grace ;  Acts  viii.  20. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  of  the  same  judgment  and  resolu- 
tion in  the  main ;  but  yet  the  world  retaineth  a  greater  interest  in 
his  heart;  it  grieveth  him  more  to  lose  it;  it  is  a  stronger  tempta- 
tion to  him.  To  deny  all  the  preferments,  and  honors,  and  riches 
of  it,  seemeth  a  greater  matter  to  him ;  and  he  doth  it  with  more 
striving,  and  less  ease  ;  and  sometimes  the  respect  of  worldly  things 
prevaileth  with  him,  in  lesser  matters,  to  wound  his  conscience,  and 
maketh  work  for  repentance ;  and  such  are  so  entangled  in  worldly 
cares,  and  prosperity  tasteth  so  sweet  with  them,  that  grace  even 
languisheth  andfalleth  into  a  consumption,  and  almost  into  a  swoon. 
So  much  do  some  such  let  out  their  hearts  to  the  world,  which  they 
renounced,  and  scrape  for  it  with  so  much  care  and  eagerness,  and 
contend  with  others  about  their  commodities  and  rights,  that  they 
seem  to  the  standers  by  to  be  as  worldly  as  worldlings  themselves 
are;  and  bfecome  a  shame  to  their  profession,  and  make  ungodly 
persons  say,  '  Your  godly  professors  are  as  covetous  as  any  ; '  2 
Tim.  iv.  10. 

3.  But  seeming  Christians  are  the  servants  of  the  world ;  when 
they  have  learnt  to  speak  most  hardly  of  it,  it  hath  their  hearts. 
Heaven,  as  I  said  before,  is  valued  but  as  a  reserve,  when  they 
know  they  can  keep  the  world  no  longer.  They  have  more  sweet 
and  pleasing  thoughts  and  speeches  of  the  world,  than  they  have  of  . 
God  and  the  world  to  come.  It  hath  most  of  their  hearts  when  God 
is  most  preferred  by  their  tongues.  There  it  is  that  they  are  daily 
laying  up  their  treasure;  and  there  they  must  leave  it  at  the  parting 
hour,  when  they  go  naked  out  as  they  came  naked  in.  The  love  of 
deceitful  riches  choketh  the  word  of  God,  and  it  withereth  in  them, 
and  becometh  unfruitful ;  Matt.  xiii.  22.  They  go  away  sorrow- 
ful, because  of  their  beloved  riches,  when  they  should  part  with 
all  for  the  hopes  of  heaven;  (Luke  xviii.  23.)  yea,  though  they 
are  beggars,  that  never  have  a  day's  prosperity  in  the  world  ;  for  all 
that,  they  love  it  better  than  heaven,  and  desire  that  which  they 
cannot  get,  because  they  have  not  an  eye  of  faith,  to  see  that  bet- 
ter world  which  they  neglect,  and  therefore  take  it  for  an  uncertain 
thing.  Nor  are  their  carnal  natures  suitable  to  it,  and  therefore  they 
mind  it  not ;  Rom.  viii.  7.  When  a  hypocrite  is  at  the  best,  he  is 
but  a  religious  worldhng;  the  world  is  nearer  to  his  heart  than  God 
is;  but  "  pure  religion  kecpeth  a  man  unspotted  of  the  world;" 
James  i.  27. 

XIX.  I.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  still  sceth  the  end 
in  all  that  he  doth,  and  that  is  before  him  in  his  way,  and  looketh 


504  CHARACTER    OF    A    s6uN», 

not  at  things  as  at  the  present  they  seem  or  relish  to  the  flesh,  of 
to  short-sighted  men,  but  as  they  will  appear  and  be  judged  of  at 
last.  The  first  letter  raaketh  not  the  word,  nor  tlie  first  word  the 
sentence,  without  the  last.  Present  time  is  quickly  past,  and 
therefore  he  less  regardeth  what  things  seem  at  present,  than  what 
they  will  prove  to  all  eternity.  When  temptations  offer  him  a  bait  to 
sin,  with  the  present  profit,  or  pleasure,  or  honor,  he  seeth  at  once 
the  final  shame :  he  seeth  all  worldly  things  as  they  are  seen  by  a 
dying  man,  and  as  after  the  general  conflagration  they  will  be.  He 
seeth  the  godly  man,  in  his  adversity  and  patience,  as  entering  into 
his  Master's  joys :  he  seeth  the  derided,  vilified  saint,  as  ready  to 
stand  justified  by  Christ  at  his  right  hand ;  and  the  liars  of  the  ma- 
licious world  as  ready  to  cover  themselves  with  shame.  He  seeth 
the  wicked,  in  the  height  of  their  prosperity,  as  ready  to  be  cut  down 
and  withered,  and  their  pampered  flesh  to  turn  to  dirt ;  and  their 
filthy  and  malicious  souls  to  stand  condemned  by  Christ  at  his  left 
hand ;  and  to  hear,  "  Go,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared 
for  the  devil  and  his  angels  ;  "  Matt.  xxv.  1  Pet.  i.  24.  James  i.  10, 
11.  Psal.  Ixxiii.  xxxvii.  Therefore  it  is  that  he  valued  grace,  be- 
cause he  knoweth  what  it  will  be ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  he  flieth 
from  sin,  "because  he  knoweth  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,"  and  what 
it  will  prove  to  the  sinner  in  the  end ;  and  how  sinners  themselves 
will  curse  the  day  that  ever  they  did  commit  it ;  and  wish,  when  it  is 
too  late,  that  they  had  chosen  the  holiness  and  patience  of  the  saints. 
And  therefore  it  is  that  he  pitieth  rather  than  envieth  the  prosperous 
.enemies  of  the  church,  because  he  foreseeth  what  the  "  end  will  be  of 
them  that  obey  not  the  gospel  of  Christ.  And  if  the  righteous  be 
scarcely  saved,  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  sinners  appear  ?  "  1 
Pet.  iv.  17,  18.  2  Thes.  i.  8 — 10.  If  the  wicked  unbelievers 
saw  but  the  ending  of  all  things  as  he  doth,  they  would  be  all  then 
of  his  mind  and  way.  This  putteth  so  much  life  into  his  prayers, 
his  obedience,  and  patience,  because  he  seeth  the  end  in  all ;  Deut. 
xxxii.  29.     Prov.  xix.  20.     Isa.  xlvii,  7. 

2.  And  the  weakest  Christian  doth  the  same  in  the  main,  so  far 
as  to  turn  his  heart  from  things  temporal  to  things  eternal  ;  and  to 
resolve  him  in  his  main  choice,  and  to  conduct  the  course  of  his  life 
towards  heaven.  But  yet  in  particular  actions  he  is  often  stopped 
in  present  things,  and  forgetfully  loseth  the  sight  of  the  end,  and  so 
is  deluded  and  enticed  into  sin,  for  want  of  seeing  that  which  should 
have  preserved  him.  He  is  like  one  that  traveleth  over  hills  and 
valleys,  who,  when  he  is  upon  the  hills,  doth  see  the  place  that  he  is 
going  to  ;  but  when  he  cometh  into  the  valleys,  it  is  out  of  his  sight. 
Too  oft  doth  the  weak  Christian  think  of  things  as  they  appear  at 
the  present,  with  little  sense  of  the  change  that  is  near.  When  he 
seeth  the  baits  of  sin,  whether  riches,  or  beauty,  or  meat  and  drink, 


CONFIRMED    CHRlSTlANT.  505 

or  any  thini^  that  is  pleasing  to  the  senses,  the  remembrance  of  the 
end  doth  not.so  quickly  and  powerfully  work,  to  prevent  his  decelv* 
ed  imaginations  as  it  ought.  And  when  poverty,  or  shame,  or  suf- 
ferings, orsickness,  are  presented  to  him,  the  foresight  of  the  end 
is  not  so  speedy  and  powerful  in  clearing  his  judgment,  and  settling 
his  resolution,  and  preventing  his  misapprehension  and  troubles  as 
it  "ought.  And  hence  come  his  oft  mistakes  and  falls  ;  and  herein 
consisteth  much  of  that  foolishness,  which  he  confesseth  when  re- 
pentance bringeth  him  to  himself;  2  Sam.  xxiv.  10.  2  Chron. 
xvi.  9. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  hath  so  dim  and  doubtful  a  fore- 
sight of  the  end,  and  it  is  so  frequently  out  of  his  mind,  that  things 
present  do  carry  away  his  heart,  and  have  the  greatest  power  and 
interest  with  him,  and  are  most  regarded  and  sought  after  in  this 
life.  For  he  is  purblind,  not  seeing  afar  off,  as  it  is  said,  2  Pet.  i» 
9.  He  wanteth  that  faith  wiiich  is  the  "  substance  of  things  hop- 
ed for,  and  the  evidence  of  things  unseen;"  Heb.  xi.  1.  Things 
promised  in  another  world  seem  to  him  too  uncertain  or  too  far  off 
to  be  preferred  before  all  the  happiness  of  this  world:  he  is  resolv- 
ed to  make  his  best  of  that  which  he  hath  in  hand,  and  to  prefer 
possession  before  such  hopes.  Little  doth  his  heart  perceive  what 
a  change  is  near,  and  how  the  face  of  all  things  will  be  altered  ! 
how  sin  will  look,  and  how  the  minds  of  sinners  will  be  changed, 
and  what  all  the  riches,  and  pleasures,  and  honors  of  the  world  will 
appear  at  the  latter  end  I  He  foreseeth  not  the  day  when  the 
slothful,  and  the  worldly,  and  the  fleshly,  and  the  proud,  and  the 
enemies  of  godliness,  shall  all  wish  in  yain,  '  O  that  we  had  laid  up 
our  treasure  in  heaven,  and  labored  for  the  food  that  perisheth  not, 
and  had  set  less  by  all  the  vanities  of  the  world,  and  had  imitated 
the  holiest  and  most  mortified  believers!'  Tliough  the  hypocrite 
can  himself  foretell  all  this,  and  talk  of  it  to  others,  yet  his  belief  of  it 
is  so  dead,  and  his  sensuality  so  strong,  that  he  liveth  by  sense, 
and  not  by  that  belief;  and  present  things  are  practically  preferred 
by  him,  and  bear  the  sway,  so  that  he  needeth  those  warnings  qf 
God  as  well  as  the  profane,  "  O  that  they  were  wise,  that  they  un- 
derstood this,  and  that  they  would  consider  their  latter  end  ;"  Deut. 
xxxii.  29.  And  he  is  one  of  the  foolish  ones  (Matt.  xxv.  8.  11.) 
who  are  seeking  oil  for  their  lamps  when  it  is  too  late,  and  are  crying 
out,  •'  Lord,  Lord,  open  to  us,"  when  the  door  is  shut ;  and  will  not 
know  the  time  of  their  visitation,  nor  know  effectually,  in  this  their 
day,  the  things  which  belong  to  their  everlasting  peace. 

XX.  I.  The  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  liveth  upon  God  alone; 
his  faith  is  divine;  his  love,  and  obedience,  and  confidence,  are  di- 
vine ;  his  chiefest  converse  is  divine  ;  his  hopes  and  comforts  are 
divine.  As  it  is  God  that  he  dependeth  on,  and  trusteth  to,  and 
vor,.  I.  64 


506  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

studieth  to  please  above  all  the  world,  so  It  is  God's  approbation 
that  he  taketh  up  with  for  his  justification  and  reward.  He  took 
him  for  his  absolute  Governor  and  Judge,  and  full  felicity,  in  the 
day  when  he  took  him  for  his  God.  He  can  live  in  peace  without 
man's  approbation.  If  men  are  never  acquainted  with  his  sinceri- 
ty, or  virtues,  or  good  deeds,  it  doth  not  discourage  him  nor  hinder 
him  from  his  holy  course ;  he  is,  therefore,  the  same  in  secret  as  -in 
public,  because  no  place  is  secret  from  God.  If  men  turn  his 
greatest  virtues  or  duties  to  his  reproach,  and  slander  him,  and 
make  him  odious  to  men,  and  represent  him,  as  they  did  Paul,  a 
pestilent  fellow,  a  mover  of  sedition,  and  the  ringleader  of  a  sect, 
and  make  him  as  the  filth  of  the  world,  and  the  ofFscouring  of  all 
things,  this  changeth  him  not,  for  it  changeth  not  his  felicity,  nor 
doth  he  miss  of  his  reward  ;  1  Cor.  iv.  9 — 14.  Read  the  w^ords 
in  the  text.  Though  he  hath  so  much  suspicion  of  his  own  under- 
standing, and  reverence  for  wiser  men's,  that  he  will  be  glad  to 
learn,  and  will  hear  reason  from  any  one;  yet  praise  and  dispraise 
are  matters  of  very  small  regard  v\'ith  him  ;  and  as  to  himself,  he 
counteth  it  but  a  very  small  thing  to  be  judged  of  men,  whether 
they  justify  or  condemn  him  ;  because  they  are  fallible,  and  have 
not  the  power  of  determining  any  thing  to  his  great  commodity  or 
detriment ;  nor  is  it  their  judgment  to  which  he  stands  or  falls ; 
1  Cor.  iv.  3,  4.  He  hath  a  more  dreadful  or  comfortable  judg- 
ment to  prepare  for.  Man  is  of  small  account  with  him  in  com- 
parison of  God  ;  Rom.  viii.  33 — 36. 

2.  And  though  with  the  weakest  true  Christian  it  is  so  also  as.  to 
the  predominancy  of  God's  esteem  and  interest  in  him,  yet  is  his 
weakness  daily  visible  in  the*  culpable  effects.  Though  God  have 
the  chiefest  place  in  his  esteem,  yet  man  hath  much  more  than  his 
due.  The  thoughts  and  words  of  men  seem  to  such  of  far  greater 
importance  than  they  should.  Praise  and  dispraise,  favors  and  in- 
juries, are  things  which  affect  their  hearts  too  much  ;  they  bear  not 
the  contempts  and  wrongs  of  men  with  so  quiet  and  satisfied  a  mind 
as  beseemeth  those" that  live  upon  God.  They  have  so  small  an 
experience  of  the  comforts  of  God  in  Christ,  that  they  are  tasting 
the  deeper  of  other  delights,  and  spare  them  not  so  easily  as  they 
ought  to  do.  God,  without  friends,  or  house,  or  land,  or  mainte- 
nance, or  esteem  in  the  world,  doth  not  fully  quiet  them  ;  but  there 
is  a  deal  of  peevish  impatience  left  in  their  minds,  though  it  doth 
not  drive  them  away  fiom  God. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  can  better  take  up  with  the  world 
alone  than  with  God  alone  :  God  is  not  so  much  missed  by  him  as 
the  world :  he  always  breaks  with  Christ,  when  it  cometh  to  for- 
saking all :  he  is  godly  notionally  and  professedly,  and  therefore 
may  easily  say  that  God  is  his  portion,  and  enough  for  those  that 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN'.  .'07 

put  their  trust  in  him ;  but  his  heart  never  consented  truly  to  re- 
duce these  words  to  practice.  When  it  comes  to  the  trial,  the 
praise  or  dispraise  of  man,  and  the  prosperity  or  matters  of  the 
world,  do  signify  more  with  him  than  the  favor  or  displeasure  of 
God,  and  can  do  more  with  him.  Christ,  and  riches,  and  esteem, 
he  could  be  content  with  ;  but  he  cannot  away  with  a  naked  Christ 
alone.  Therefore  he  is  indeed  a  practical  atheist,  even  when  he 
seemeth  most  religious  ;  for  if  he  had  ever  taken  God  for  his  God 
indeed,  he  had  certainly  taken  him  as  his  portion,  felicity,  and  all, 
and  therefore  as  enough  for  him  without  the  creature ;  Luke 
xviii.  23. 

XXI.  1.  For  all  this,  it  foUoweth,  that  a  Christian  indeed  hath 
with  himself  devoted  all  that  he  hath  to  God,  and  so  all  that  he 
hath  is  sanctified :  he  is  only  in  doubt  cfttlmes,  in  particular  cases, 
what  God  would  have  him  do  with  himself  and  his  estate  ;  but 
never  in  doubt  wdiether  they  are  to  be  wholly  employed  for  God, 
in  obedience  to  his  will,  as  far  as  he  can  know  it,  and  therefore  doth 
estimate  every  creature  and  condition,  purely  as  it  relateth  unto 
God  and  hfe  eternal.  "HOLINESS  TO  THE  LORD"  is 
^\Titten  upon  all  that  he  hath  and  doth  :  he  taketh  it  as  sent  from 
God,  and  useth  it  as  his  Master's  goods  and  talents ;  not  chiefly 
for  himself,  but  for  his  Master's  ends  and  \v\\\.  God  appeareth  to 
him  in  the  creature,  and  is  the  life,  and  sweetness,  and  glory  of  the 
creature  to  him.  His  first  question  In  every  business  he  undertak- 
eth,  or  every  place  or  condition  that  he  chooseth,  Is,  how  it  conduc- 
eth  to  the  pleasing  of  God,  and  to  his  spiritual  ends  ;  "  whether  he 
eateth  or  drinketh,  or  whatever  he  doth,  he  doth  all  to  the  glory  of 
God;"  1  Cor.  x.  3L  The  posy  engraven  on  his  heart  Is  the 
name  of  GOD,  with  "  OF  HIM,  AND  THROUGH  HIM,  AND 
TO  HIM,  ARE  ALL  THINGS :  TO  HIM  BE  GLORY  FOR 
EVER,  AMEN;"  Rom.  xi.  36.  He  hveth  as  a  steward  that 
useth  not  his  own,  though  yet  he  have  a  sufficient  reward  for  his 
fidelity  ;  and  he  keepeth  accounts  both  of  receivings  and  layings 
out,  and  reckoneth  all  to  be.  worse  than  lost,  wdilch  he  findeth  not 
expended  on  his  Lord's  account.  For  himself,  he  asketh  not  that 
which  is  sweetest  to  the  flesh,  but  that  which  is  fittest  to  his  end 
and  work ;  and  therefore  desireth  not  riches,  (for  himself,)  but  his 
daily  bread,  and  food  convenient  for  him  ;  and  having  food  and  rai- 
ment is  therewith  content,  having  taken  godliness  for  his  gain.  He 
asketh  not  for  superfluity,  nor  for  any  thing  to  consume  it  on  his 
lusts,  nor  to  become  provision  for  his  flesh,  to  satisfy  the  wills 
thereof.  But  as  a  runner  in  his  race  desireth  not  any  provisions 
which  may  hinder  him  ;  and  therefore  "  forgetting  the  things  which 
are  behind,  (the  world  which  he  hath  turned  his  back  upon,)  he 
reacheth  forth  to  the  things  which  are  before,  (the  crown  of  glory,) 


508  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND. 

.ind  presseth  toward  the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God  in  Christ  Jesus  ;  "  not  turning  an  eye  to  any  thing  that  wftuld 
stop  him  in  his  course.  Thus,  while  he  is  employed  about  things 
below,  his  mind  and  conversation  are  heavenly  and  divine,  while 
all  things  are  estimated  and  used  purely  for  God  and  heaven ; 
Luke  xvi.  1,  2.  1  Pet.  iv.  10.  Tit.  i.  15.  Prov.  xxx.  8. 
1  Tim.  vi.  6.  8.     James  iv.  3.     Rom.  xiii.  14.     Phil.  iii.  13 — 15. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  have  all  this  in  desire, 
and  be  thus  affected  and  resolved  in  the  main,  and  liveth  to  God  in 
the  scope  and  course  of  his  life,  yet  is  too  often  looking  aside,  and 
valuing  tlie  creature  carnally  for  itself;  and  ofttimes  useth  it  for 
the  pleasing  of  the  flesh,  and  almost  like  a  common  man  :  his  house 
and  land,  and  friends,  and  pleasures,  are  relished  too  carnally,  as 
his  own  accommodations ;  and  though  he  walk  not  after  the  flesh, 
but  after  the  Spirit,  yet  he  hath  too  much  of  the  fleshly  taste,  and 
is  greatly  out  in  his  accounts  with  God  ;  and  turneth  many  a  thing 
from  his  Master's  use  to  the  service  of  the  flesh  ;  and  though  he  be 
not  as  the  slothful,  wicked  servant,  yet  is  it  but  little  improvement 
that  he  maketh  of  his  talent ;  Matt.  xxv.   17.  26 — 28. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  being  carnal  and  selfish,  while  his 
notions  and  professions  are  spiritual  and  divine,  and  his  selfish  and 
fleshly  interest  being  predominant,  it  must  needs  follow  that  he  es- 
timateth  all  things  principally  as  they  respect  his  fleshly  interest, 
and  useth  them  principally  for  his  carnal  self,  even  when  in  the 
manner  he  seemeth  to  use  them  most  religiously  ;  (as  I  have  said 
before  ;)  and  so  to  the  defiled  nothing  is  pure  ;  Rom.  viii.  5 — 8. 
13.  Tit.  i.  15.  ^    . 

XXII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  hath  a  promptitude  to  obey,  and 
a  ready  compliance  of  his  will  to  the  will  of  God.  He  hath  not 
any  great  averseness  and  withdrawing,  and  doth  not  the  good 
which  he  doth  with  much  backwardness  and  striving  against  it ;  but 
as  in  a  well-ordered  watch  or  clock,  tlie  spring  or  poise  doth  easily 
set  all  the  wheels  a  going,  and  the  first  wheel  easily  moveth  the 
rest ;  so  is  the  will  of  a  confirmed  Christian  presently  moved,  as 
soon  as  he  knoweth  the  will  of  God.  He  stayeth  not  for  other 
moving  reasons ;  God's  Vvill  is  his  reason.  This  is  the  habit  of 
subjection  and  obedience,  which  makes  him  say,  "  Speak,  Lord, 
for  thy  servant  heareth  ;  "  and  "  Lord,  what  wculdst  thou  have  me 
do  ?  "  And  "  Teach  me  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  ;  "  Psal.  cxliii.  10. 
1  Sam.  iii.  10.  Acts  ix.  6.  "  Idelight  to  do  thy  will,  O  God  ; 
yea,  thy  law  is  within  my  heart ;"  Psal.  xl.  8.  The  "law  written 
in  our  heart"  is  nothing  else  but  the  knowledge  of  God's  laws,  with 
this  habit  or  promptitude  to  obey  them  ;  the  special  fruit  of  the 
Spirit  of  grace. 

2.  But  a  weak  Christian,  though  he  love  God's  will  and  way. 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  509 

and  be  sincerely  obedient  to  bim,  yet  in  many  particulars,  wliere 
his  corruption  contradictetii,  hatli  a  great  deal  of  backwardness 
and  striving  of  the  flesh  against  the  Spirit ;  and  there  needs  many 
words  and  many  considerations  and  vehement  persuasions,  yea, 
and  sharp  afflictions,  sometimes,  to  bring  bim  to  obey.  And  he  is 
fain  to  drive  on  his  backward  heart,  and  hath  frequent  use  for  the 
rod  and  spur,  and  tlierefore  is  more  slow  and  uneven  in  his  obedi- 
ence;  Gal.  V.  17. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  is  forward  in  those  easy,  cheaper  parts 
of  duty,  which  serve  to  delude  his  carnal  heart,  and  quiet  him  in  a 
worldly  life ;  but  he  is  so  backward  to  thorough  sincere  obe'dience 
in  the  most  flesh-displeasing  parts  of  duty,  that  he  is  never  brought 
to  it  at  all ;  but  either  he  will  fit  his  opinions  in  religion  to  his  will, 
and  will  not  believe  them  to  be  duties,  or  else  he  will  do  something 
like  them  in  a  superficial,  formal  way  ;  but  the  thing  itself  he  will 
not  do.  For  he  is  more  obedient  to  his  carnal  mind  and  lusts  than 
he  is  to  God,  (Rom.  viii.  6,  7.)  and  forwarder  much  to  sacrifice 
than  obedience  ;  Eccles.  v.  1. 

XXIII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  daily  delight  himself  in 
God,  and  findeth  more  solid  content  and  pleasure  in  his  commands 
and  promises,  than  in  all  this  world:  his  duties  are  sweet  to  bim, 
and  his  hopes  are  sweeter.  Religion  is  not  a  tiresome  task  to 
him:  the  yoke  of  Christ  is  easy  to  him,  and  his  burden  light, 
and  his  commandments  are  not  grievous ;  Psal.  xxxvii.  4.  i.  2. 
xl.  8.  xciv.  19.  cxix.  16.35.  47.70.  Matt.  xi.  28,  29.  John 
v.  3.  That  which  others  take  as  physic,  for  mere  necessity,  against 
their  wills,  he  goeth  to  as  a  feast,  with  appetite  and  delight :  he 
prayeth  because  he  loveth  to  pray  ;  and  he  thinks  and  speaks  of 
holy  things  because  he  loveth  to  do  it.  And  hence  it  is  that  be 
is  so  much  in  holy  duty,  and  so  unwearied,  because  he  loveth  it, 
and  takcth  pleasure  in  it.  As  voluptuous  persons  are  oft  and  long 
at  their  sports,  or  merry  company,  because  they  love  them,  and 
take  pleasure  in  them ;  so  are  such  Christians  oft  and  long  in  holy 
exercises,  because  their  hearts  are  set  upon  them  as  their  recrea- 
tion, and  the  way  and  means  of  their  felicity.  If  it  be  a  delight  to 
a  studious  man  to  read  those  books  which  most  clearly  open  the 
abstrusest  mysteries  of  the  sciences,  or  to  converse  with  the  most 
wise  and  learned  men;  and  if  it  be  a  delight  to  men  to  converse 
with  their  dearest  friends,  or  to  hoar  from  them  and  read  their  let- 
ters ;  no  marvel  if  it  be  a  delight  to  a  Christian  indeed,  to  read  the 
gospel  mysteries  of  love,  and  to  find  tliere  the  promises  ol  ever- 
lasting happiness,  and  to  see  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  the  clear- 
est image  of  the  Eternal  Deity,  and  foresee  the  joys  which  he  shall 
have  forever.  He  sticketh  not  in  superficial  formality,  but,  break- 
ing the  shell,  doth  feed  upon  the  kernel.     It  is  not    bare  external 


510  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

duty  which  he  is  taken  up  with,  nor  any  mere  creature  that  Is  his 
content ;  but  it  is  God  in  creatures  and  ordinances  that  he  seeketh 
and  liveth  upon ;  and  therefore  it  is  that  religion  is  so  pleasant  to 
him.  He  would  not  change  his  heavenly  delights  which  he  findeth 
in  the  exercise  of  faith,  and  hope,  and  love  to  God,  for  all  the  car- 
nal pleasures  of  this  world:  he  had  rather  be  a  doorkeeper  in  the 
house  of  God,  than  to  dwell  in  the  tents  or  palaces  of  wickedness. 
A  day  in  God's  court  is  better  to  him  than  a  thousand  in  the  court 
of  the  greatest  prince  on  earth.  He  is  not  a  stranger  to  "  the  joy 
in  the  Holy  Ghost,"  in  which  the  kingdom  of  God  doth  in  part 
consist;  Rom,  xiv.  17.  Psal.  Ixxxiv.  10.  2.  Ixv.  4.  "In  the 
multitude  of  his  thoughts  witliin  him,  the  comforts  of  God  do  de- 
light his  soul  ;  "  Psal.  xciv.  19.  "  His  meditation  of  God  is  sweet, 
and  he  is  glad  in  the  Lord  ;  "  Psal.  civ.  34.  The  freest  and  sweetest 
of  his  thoughts  and  words  run  out  upon  God  and  the  matters  of  sal- 
vation. The  word  of  God  is  sweeter  to  him  than  honey,  and  better 
than  thousands  of  gold  and  silver;  Psal.  xix.  10.  cxix.  72.  103. 
Prov.  xvi.  24.  And  because  "  his  delight  is  in  the  law  of  the  Lord, 
therefore  doth  he  meditate  in  it  day  and  night ;  "  Psal.  i.  2.  He 
seeth  great  reason  for  all  those  commands,  "  Rejoice  evermore  ; " 
(1  Thes.  v.  16.)  "  Let  the  righteous  be  glad,  let  them  rejoice  be- 
fore God  ;  yea,  let  them  exceedingly  rejoice  ;  "  (Psal.  Ixviii.  3,  4. 
Ixiv.  10.  xxxi.  1.  xxxii.  11.)  "Be  glad  in  the  Lord,  and  re- 
joice, ye  righteous ;  and  shout  for  joy,  alt  that  are  upright  in 
heart."  He  is  sorry  for  the  poor,  unhappy  world,  that  have  no 
better  things  than  meat,  and  drink,  and  clothes,  and  house,  and 
land,  and  money,  and  lust,  and  play,  and  domineering  over  others, 
to  rejoice  in ;  and  heartily  he  wisheth  they  had  but  a  taste  of  the 
saint's  dehghts,  that  it  might  make  them  spit  out  their  luscious,  un- 
clean, unwholesome  pleasures.  One  look  to  Christ,  one  promise 
of  the  gospel,  one  serious  thought  of  the  life  which  he  must  live 
with  God  forever,  doth  afford  his  soul  more  solid  comfort  than  all 
the  kingdoms  of  the  earth  can  afford.  And  though  he  live  not 
continually  in  these  high  delights,  yet  peace  with  God,  and  peace 
of  conscience,  and  some  delight  in  God  and  godliness,  is  the  ordi- 
nary temperature  of  his  soul,  and  higher  degrees  are  given  him  in 
season  for  his  cordials  and  his  feasts. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  hath  little  of  these  spiritual  delights  : 
his  ordinary  temper  is  to  apprehend  that  God  and  his  ways  are  in- 
deed most  delectable  :  his  very  heart  acknowledgeth  that  they  are 
worthiest  and  fittest  to  be  the  matter  of  his  delights  ;  and  if  he  could 
attain  assurance  of  his  especial  interest  in  the  love  of  God,  and  his 
part  in  Christ  and  life  eternal,  he  would  then  rejoice  in  them  in- 
deed, and  would  be  more  glad  than  if  he  were  lord  of  all  the 
world  ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  either  his  fears  and  doubts  are  damp- 


CONi'IRMED    CHRISTIAN'.  511 

ing  his  deliglits  ;  or  else  (which  is  raucli  worse)  his  appetite  is  dull, 
and  God  and  hohness  relish  not  with  him  half  so  sweetly  as  they 
do  with  the  confirmed  Christian ;  and  he  is  too  busy  in  tasting  of 
fleshly  and  forbidden  pleasures,  which  yet  more  deprave  his  appe- 
tite, and  dull  his  desires  to  the  things  of  God  ;  so  that  though  in  his 
estimation,  choice,  resolution  and  endeavor,  he  much  preferreth  God 
before  the  world  ;  yet,  as  to  any  delightful  sweetness  in  him,  it  is 
but  httle  that  he  tasteth.  He  loveth  God  with  a  desiring  love,  and 
with  a  seeking  love,  but  with  very  little  of  a  delighting  love.  The 
remnant  of  corrupt  and  alien  affections  do  weaken  his  affections  to  the 
things  above  ;  and  his  infant  measure  of  spiritual  life,  conjunct  with 
many  troublesome  diseases,  allow  him  very  little  of  the  joy  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Nay,  perhaps  he  hath  more  grief,  and  fear,  and  doubts, 
and  trouble,  and  perplexity  of  mind,  than  ever  he  had  before  he 
turned  unto  God  ;  and  perhaps  he  hath  yet  less  pleasure  in  God, 
than  he  had  before  in  sin  and  sensuality ;  because  he  had  his  sin  in 
a  state  of  fruition,  but  he  hath  God  only  in  a  seeking,  hoping  state: 
he  hath  the  best  of  sin,  and  all  that  ever  it  will  afford  him;  but  he 
hath  yet  none  of  the  full  felicity  which  he  expecteth  in  God :  the 
fruition  of  him  is  yet  but  in  the  prospect  of  hope.  His  sensual, 
sinful  life  was  in  its  maturity,  and  the  object  present  in  its  most  al- 
luring state  ;  but  his  spiritual  life  of  faith  and  love  is  but  yet  in  its 
weak  beginnings,  and  the  object  absent  from  our  sight :  he  is  so 
busy  at  first  in  blowing  up  his  little  spark,  not  knowing  whether 
the  fire  will  kindle  or  go  out,  that  he  hath  little  of  the  use  or 
pleasure,  either  of  its  light  or  wannth.  Infants  come  crying  into 
the  world,  and  afterwards  oftener  cry  than  laugh  :  their  senses  and 
reason  are  not  yet  perfected,  or  exercised  to  partake  of  the  pleasures 
of  life ;  and  when  they  do  come  to  know  what  laughter  is,  they 
will  laugh  and  cry  almost  in  a  breath.  And  those  w^eak  Christians 
that  do  come  to  taste  of  joy  and  pleasure  in  their  religious  state,  it 
is  commonly  but  as  a  flash  of  lightning,  which  leaveth  them  as  dark 
as  they  were  before.  Somethnes  in  the  beginning,  upon  their  first 
apprehensions  of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ,  and  of  the  pardon  of 
their  sins,  and  the  privileges  of  their  new  condition,  and  the  hopes 
of  everlasting  joy,  their  hearts  are  transported  with  unspeakable  de- 
light ;  which  is  partly  from  the  newness  of  the  thing,  and  partly 
because  God  will  let  them  have  some  encouraging  taste,  to  draw 
them  further,  and  to  convince  them  of  the  difference  between  the 
pleasures  of  sin  and  the  comforts  of  believing;  but  these  first  re- 
joicings soon  abate,  and  turn  into  a  life  of  doubts,  and  fears,  and 
griefs,  and  care,  till  they  are  grown  to  greater  understanding,  ex- 
perience, and  settledness  in  the  things  of  God  :  the  root  must  grow 
greater  and  deeper,  before  it  will  bear  a  greater  top.  Those 
Christians  that  in  the  weakness  of  grace  have  frequent  joys,  are 


f» 


512  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

usually  persons  whose  weak  and  passionate  nature  doth  occasion  it : 
some  women,  especially,  that  have  strong  fancies  and  passions,  are 
always  passionately  affected  with  whatsoever  they  apprehend. 
And  these  are  like  a  ship  that  is  tossed  in  a  tempest ;  that  is  one 
while  lifted  up  as  to  the  clouds,  and  presently  cast  down  as  into  an 
infernal  gulf;  there  one  day  in  great  joy,  and  quickly  after  in  as 
great  perplexity  and  sorrow,  because  their  comforts  or  sorrows  do 
follow  their  present  feeling,  or  mutuable  apprehensions.  But  when 
they  come  to  be  confirmed  Christians,  they  will  keep  a  more  con- 
stant judgment  of  themselves,  and  their  own  condition,  and  con- 
stantly see  their  grounds  of  comfort ;  and  when  they  cannot  raise 
their  souls  to  any  high  and  passionate  joys,  they  yet  walk  in  a  set- 
tled peace  of  soul,  and  in  such  competent  comforts,  as  make  their 
lives  to  be  easy  and  delightful ;  being  well  pleased  and  contented 
with  the  happy  condition  that  Christ  hath  brought  them  to,  and 
thankful  that  he  left  them  not  in  those  foolish,  vain,  pernicious 
pleasures,  which  were  the  way  to  endless  sorrows. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  seeketh  and  taketh  up  his  chief 
contentment  in  some  carnal  thing :  if  he  be  so  poor  and  miserable 
as  to  have  nothing  in  possession  that  can  much  delight  him,  he  will 
hope  for  better  days  hereafter,  and  that  hope  shall  be  his  chief  de- 
light ;  or  if  he  have  no  such  hope,  he  will  be  without  delight ;  and 
show  his  love  to  the  world  and  flesh,  by  mourning  for  that  which 
he  cannot  have,  as  others  do  in  rejoicing  in  what  they  do  possess ; 
and  he  will,  in  such  a  desperate  case  of  misery,  be  such  to  the 
world  as  the  weak  Christian  is  to  God,  who  hath  a  mourning  and 
desiring  love,  when  he  cannot  reach  to  an  enjoying  and  delightful 
love.  His  carnal  mind  most  savoreth  the  things  of  the  flesh,  and 
therefore  in  them  he  findeth  or  seeketh  his  delights.  Though  yet 
he  may  have  also  a  delight  in  his  superficial  kind  of  religion,  his 
hearing,  and  reading,  and  praying,  and  in  his  ill-grounded  hopes  of 
life  eternal ;  but  all  this  is  but  subordinate  to  his  chief,  earthly 
pleasure  ;  "  yet  they  seek  me  daily,  and  delight  to  know  my  ways, 
as  a  nation  that  did  righteousness,  and  forsook  not  the  ordinances  of 
their  God :  they  ask  of  me  the  ordinances  of  justice ;  they  take 
delight  in  approaching  unto  God."  Isa.  Iviii,  2.  And  yet  all  this 
was  subjected  to  a  covetous,  oppressing  mind.  "  He  that  received 
the  seed  into  stony  places,  the  same  is  he  that  heareth  the  word, 
and  anon  with  joy  receiveth  it,  yet  hatii  he  not  root  in  himself,  but 
endureth  for  a  while  ;  for  when  tribulation  or  persecution  ariseth  be- 
cause of  the  word,  by  and  by  he  is  offended;"  Matt.  xiii.  20. 
Whereby  it  appeareth  that  his  love  to  the  word  was  subjected  to 
his  love  to  the  world. 

Object.  '  But  there  are  two  sorts  of  people  that  seem  to  have  no 
fleshly  delights  at  all,  and  yet  are  not  in  the  way  to  salvation,  viz. 


CONFIRMED    CIIUISTIAN.  513 

the  Quakers  and  Belunenists,  that  hve  in  great  austerity,  and  some 
of  the  rehgious  orders  of  the  Papists,  who  afflict  their  tiesh.' 

Answ.  Some  of  them  undergo  their  fastings  and  penanee  for  a 
day,  that  they  may  sin  the  more  quietly  aU  the  week  after ;  and 
some  of  them  proudly  comfort  themselves  with  the  fancies  and 
conceit  of  being  and  appearing  more  excellent  in  austerity  than 
others  ;  and  all  these  take  up  with  a  carnal  sort  of  pleasure.  As 
proud  persons  are  pleased  with  their  own  or  others'  conceits  of 
their  beauty,  or  wit,  or  worldly  greatness ;  so  prouder  persons  are 
pleased  with  their  own  and  others'  conceits  of  their  holiness.  And 
"  verily  they  have  their  reward ;  "  Matt.  vi.  2.  But  those  of  them 
that  place  their  chief  happiness  in  the  love  of  God,  and  the  eternal 
fruition  of  him  in  heaven,  and  seek  this  sincerely  according  to  their 
helps  and  power,  though  they  are  misled  into  some  superstitious 
errors,  I  hope  I  may  number  with  those  that  are  sincere,  for  all 
their  errors  and  the  ill  effects  of  them. 

XXIV.  1.  A  conhrmed  Christian  doth  ordinarily  discern  the 
sincerity  of  his  own  heart,  and  consequently  hath  some  well-ground- 
ed assurance  of  the  pardon  of  his  sins,  and  of  the  favor  of  God, 
and  of  his  everlasting  happiness ;  and,  therefore,  no  wonder  if  he 
live  a  peaceable  and  joyful  hfe.  For  his  grace  is  not  so  small  as 
to  be  undiscernible,  nor  is  it  as  a  sleepy,  buried  seed  or  principle ; 
but  it  is  almost  of  continual  act;  and  they  that  have  a  great 
degree  of  grace,  and  also  keep  it  in  lively  exercise,  do  seldom 
doubt  of  it.  Besides  that,  they  blot  not  their  evidence  by  so  many 
infirmities  and  falls.  They  are  more  in  the  light,  and  have  more 
acquaintance  with  themselves,  and  more  sense  of  the  abundant 
love  of  God,  and  of  his  exceeding  mercies,  than  weak  Christians 
have  ;  and  therefore  must  needs  have  more  assurance.  They  have 
boldness  of  access  to  the  throne  of  grace,  without  unrevei'ent  con- 
tempt;  Ephes.  hi.  12.  ii.  18.  They  have  more  of  the  spirit  of 
adoption,  and  tlierefore  more  childlike  confidence  in  God,  and  can 
call  him  Father  with  greater  freedom  and  comfort  than  any  others 
can;  Rom.  vhi.  15,  16.  Gal.  iv.  6.  Ephes.  i.  6.  1  John  v.  19, 
20.  "And  we  know  that  we  are  of  God,  and  that  the  whole 
world  lieth  in  wickedness  ;  "  k,c. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  hath  so  small  a  degree  of  grace,  and 
so  much  corruption,  and  his  grace  is  so  little  in  act,  and  his  sin  so 
much,  that  he  seldom,  if  ever,  attaireth  to  any  well-grounded  as- 
surance, till  he  attain  to  a  greater  measure  of  grace.  He  differeth 
so  little  from  the  seeming  Christian,  that  neither  himself  nor  others 
do  certainly  discern  the  difference.  When  he  searcheth  after  the 
truth  of  his  faitli,  and  love,  and  heavenly-mindedness,  he  findeth 
so  much  unbelief  and  averseness  from  God,  and  earthly-minded- 
r.ess,  that  he  cannot  be  certain  which  of  them  is  j)redominant ;  and 
VOL.   I.  65 


514  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND. 

whether  the  interest  of  this  world  or  that  to  come  do  bear  the 
sway.  So  that  he  is  often  in  perplexities  and  fears,  and  more  often 
in  a  dull  uncertainty.  And  if  he  seem  at  any  time  to  have  assur- 
ance, it  is  usually  but  an  ill-grounded  persuasion  of  the  truth  ; 
though  it  be  true  which  he  apprehendeth,  when  he  taketh  himself 
to  be  the  child  of  God,  yet  it  is  upon  unsound  reasons  that  he 
judgeth  so,  or  else  upon  sound  reasons  weakly  and  uncertainly  dis- 
cerned ;  so  that  there  is  commonly  much  of  security,  presumption, 
fancy,  or  mistake,  in  his  greatest  comforts.  He  is  not  yet  in  a 
condition  fit  for  full  assurance,  till  his  love  and  obedience  be 
more  full. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  cannot  possibly,  in  that  estate,  have 
either  certainty  or  good  probability  that  he  is  a  child  of  God,  be- 
cause it  is  not  true :  his  seeming  certainty  is  merely  self-deceit,  and 
his  greatest  confidence  is  but  presumption,  because  the  Spirit  of 
Christ  is  not  within  him,  and  therefore  he  is  certainly  none  of  his ; 
Rom.  viii.  9. 

XXV.  1.  The  assurance  of  a  confirmed  Christian  doth  increase 
his  alacrity  and  diligence  in  duty,  and  is  always  seen  in  his  more 
obedient,  holy,  fruitful  life.  The  sense  of  the  love  and  mercy  of 
God  is  as  the  rain  upon  the  tender  grass :  he  is  never  so  fruitful, 
so  thankful,  so  heavenly,  as  when  he  hath  the  greatest  certainty 
that  he  shall  be  saved.  The  love  of  God  is  then  shed  abroad  upon 
his  heart  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  maketh  him  abound  in  love  to 
God  ;  Rom.  v.  1 — 4.  He  is  the  more  steadfast,  immovable,  and 
always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  when  he  is  most  certam 
that  his  labor  shall  not  be  in  vain  in  the  Lord ;  1  Cor.  xv.  58. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  is  unfit  yet  to  manage  assurance  well, 
and  therefore  it  is  that  it  is  not  given  him ;  graces  must  grow  pro- 
portionably  together.  If  he  be  but  confidently  persuaded  that  he 
is  justified  and  shall  be  saved,  he  is  very  apt  to  gather  some  conse- 
quence from  it  that  tendeth  to  security  and  to  the  remitting  of  his 
watchfulness  and  care.  He  is  ready  to  be  the  bolder  with  sin,  and 
stretch  his  conscience,  and  omit  some  duties,  and  take  more  fleshly 
liberty  and  ease,  and  think,  '  Now  I  am  a  child  of  God  ;  I  am  out 
of  danger ;  I  am  sure  I  cannot  totally  fall  away.'  And  though  his 
judgment  conclude  not,  '  therefore  I  may  venture  further  upon 
v/orldly,  fleshly  pleasures,  and  need  not  be  so  strict  and  diligent  as 
1  was,'  yet  his  heart  and  practice  thus  conclude.  And  he  is  most 
obedient  when  he  is  most  in  fear  of  hell,  and  he  is  worst  in  his 
heart  and  life  when  he  is  most  confident  that  all  his  danger  is  past; 
Heb.  iv.  1,  2.     iii.  14—16. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian,  though  he  have  no  assurance,  is 
hardened  in  his  carnal  state  by  his  presumption.  Had  he  but  as- 
surance to  be  saved  without  a  holy  life,  he  would  cast  off"  that  very 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  515 

image  of  godliness  which  he  yet  retainetli.  The  conceit  of  his  own 
sincerity  and  salvation,  is  that  which  deludeth  and  undoeth  him. 
What  sin  would  not  gain  or  pleasure  draw  him  to  commit,  if  he 
were  but  sure  to  be  forgiven  ?  It  is  fear  of  hell  that  causeth  that 
seeming  religion  which  he  hath  ;  and  therefore,  if  that  fear  be  gone, 
all  is  gone,  and  all  his  piety,  and  diligence,  and  righteousness,  is 
come  to  nought ;  Gal.  vi.  3.     John  viii.  39.  42.  44. 

XXVI.  1.  For  all  his  assurance,  a  confirmed  Christian  is  so 
well  acquainted  with  his  manifold  imperfections,  and  daily  failings, 
and  great  unworthiness,  that  he  is  very  low  and  vile  in  his  own  eyes  ; 
and,  therefore,  can  easily  endure  to  be  low  and  vile  in  the  eyes  of 
others.  He  hath  a  constant  sense  of  the  burden  of  his  remaining  sin  ; 
especially  he  doth  even  abhor  himself,  whe.n  he  findeth  the  averse- 
ness  of  his  own  heart  to  God,  and  how  little  he  knoweth  of  him,  and 
how  little  he  loveth  him,  in  comparison  of  what  he  ought ;  and 
how  little  of  heaven  is  upon  his  heart,  and  how  strange  and  back- 
ward his  thoughts  are  to  the  life  to  come.  These  are  as  fetters 
upon  his  soul.  He  daily  groaneth  under  them  as  a  captive,  that 
he  should  be  yet  so  carnal,  and  unable  to  shake  off  the  remnant 
of  his  infirmities,  as  if  he  were  sold  under  sin ;  that  is,  in  bondage 
to  it ;  Rom.  vii.  14.  He  hateth  himself  more  for  the  imperfec- 
tions of  his  love  and  obedience  to  God,  than  hypocrites  do  for  their 
reigning  sin.  And  O,  how  he  longeth  for  the  day  of  his  deliver- 
ance !  Rom.  vii.  24.  He  thinketh  it  no  great  injury  for  another  to 
judge  of  him  as  he  judgeth  of  himself,  even  to  be  less  than  the  least 
of  all  God's  mercies.  He  is  more  troubled  for  being  over-praised 
and  over-valued,  than  for  being  dispraised  and  vilified ;  as  thinking 
those  that  praise  him  are  more  mistaken,  and  lay  the  more  danger- 
ous snare  for  liis  soul.  For  he  hath  a  special  antipathy  to  pride, 
and  wondereth  that  any  rational  man  can  be  so  blind  as  not  to  see 
enough  to  humble  him.  For  his  own  part,  (in  the  midst  of  all 
God's  graces,)  he  seeth  in  himself  so  much  darkness,  imperfection, 
corruption,  and  want  of  further  grace,  that  he  is  loathsome  and 
burdensome  continually  to  himself.  If  you  see  him  sad,  or  troubled, 
and  ask  him  the  cause,  it  is  ten  to  one  but  it  is  himself  he  complain- 
eth  of.  The  frowardest  wife,  the  most  undutiful  child,  the  most 
disobedient  servant,  the  most  injurious  neighbor,  the  most  malicious 
enemy,  is  not  half  so  great  a  trouble  to  him  as  he  is  to  himself. 
He  prayeth  abundantly  more  against  his  own  corruption,  than 
against  any  of  these.  O,  could  he  but  know  and  love  God  more, 
and  be  more  in  heaven,  and  willingcr  to  die,  and  freei-  from  his 
own  distempers,  how  easily  could  he  bear  all  crosses,  or  injuries 
from  others  I  He  came  to  Christ's  school  as  a  little  child,  (Matt, 
xviii.  3.)  and  still  he  is  little  in  his  own  esteem ;  and,  therefore, 
disesteem  and  contempt  from  others  is  no  great  matter  with  him. 


516  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

He  thinks  it  can  be  no  great  wrong  that  is  done  against  so  poor  a 
worm,  and  so  unworthy  a  sinner  as  himself,  (except  as  God  or  the 
souls  of  men  may  be  interested  in  the  cause.)  He  heartily  ap- 
proveth  of  the  justice  of  God  in  abhorring  the  proud ;  and  hath 
learned  that,  Rom,  xii.  10,  "  In  honor  preferring  one  another," 
and,  Gal.  v.  26,  "  Let  us  not  be  desirous  of  vain  glory,  provoking 
one  another,  envying  one  another." 

2.  But  the  remnant  of  pride  is  usually  the  most  notable  sin  of 
the  weak  Christian ;  though  it  reigneth  not,  it  foully  blemisheth 
him.  He  would  fain  be  taken  for  somebody  in  the  church  :  he  is 
ready  to  step  up  into  a  higher  room,  and  to  think  himself  wiser  and 
better  than  he  is.  If  he  can  but  speak  confidently  of  the  princi- 
ples of  religion,  and  some  few  controversies  which  he  hath  made 
himself  sick  with,  he  is  ready  to  think  himself  fit  to  be  a  preacher. 
He  looketh  through  a  magnifying-glass  upon  all  his  own  perform- 
ances and  gifts :  he  loveth  to  be  valued  and  praised:  he  can  hardly 
bear  to  be  slighted  and  dispraised,  but  is  ready  to  think  hardly  of 
those  that  do  it,  if  not  to  hate  them  in  some  degree :  he  loveth  not 
to  be  found  fault  with,  though  it  be  necessary  to  his  amendment; 
and  though  all  this  vice  of  pride  be  not  so  predominant  in  him,  as 
to  conquer  his  humility,  yet  doth  it  much  obscure  and  interrupt  it. 
And  though  he  hate  this  his  pride,  and  strive  against  it,  and  lament- 
eth  it  before  God,  yet  still  it  is  the  sorest  ulcer  in  his  soul.  And 
should  it  prevail  and  overcome  him,  he  would  be  abhorred  of  God, 
and  it  would  be  his  ruin  ;  2Chron.  xvi.  10.  12.  Luke  xxii.  24 — 26. 

3.  But  in  the  hypocrite,  pride  is  the  reigning  sin.  The  praise 
of  men  is  the  air  which  heliveth  in.  He  was  never  well  acquaint- 
ed with  himself,  and  never  felt  aright  the  burden  of  his  sins  and 
wants,  and,  therefore,  cannot  bear  contempt  from  others.  Indeed, 
if  his  corrupt  disposition  turn  most  to  the  way  of  covetousness, 
tyranny,  or  lust,  he  can  the  easier  bear  contempt  from  others,  as 
long  as  he  hath  his  will  at  home ;  and  he  can  spare  their  love,  if 
he  can  be  but  feared  and  domineer.  But  still  his  pride  is  pre- 
dominant;  and  when  it  affecteth  not  much  the  reputation  of  good- 
ness, it  affecteth  the  name  of  being  rich  or  great.  Sin  may  make 
him  sordid,  but  grace  doth  not  make  him  humble.  Pride  is  the 
vital  spirit  of  the  corrupted  state  of  man. 

XXVII.  1.  A  confirmed  Christian  is  acquainted  with  the  de- 
ceitfulness  of  man's  heart,  and  the  particular  corrupt  inchnations 
that  are  in  it,  and  especially  with  his  own ;  and  he  is  acquainted 
with  the  wiles  and  methods  of  the  tempter,  and  what  are  the  ma- 
terials which  he  maketh  his  baits  of,  and  what  is  the  manner  in 
which  he  spreadeth  his  nets.  He  seeth  always  some  snares  before 
him  ;  and  what  company  soever  he  is  in,  or  what  business  soever 
he  is  about,  he  walketh  as  among  snares,  which  are  visible  to  his 


h4 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  517 

sight ;  and  it  is  part  of  his  business  continually  to  avoid  them.  He 
liveth  in  a  continual  watch  and  warfore.  He  can  resist  much 
stronger  and  more  subtle  temptations  than  the  weak  can  do.  He 
is  always  armed,  and  knoweth  what  are  the  special  remedies  against 
each  particular  snare  and  sin;  Eph.  vi.  2  Cor.  ii.  11.  Prov.  i. 
17.  And  he  carrieth  always  his  antidotes  about  him,  as  one  that 
liveth  in  an  infectious  world,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  froward  and 
perverse  generation,  from  which  he  is  charged  to  save  himself; 
Phil.  ii.  15.     Acts  ii.  40. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  a  soldier  in  the  army  of  Christ,  and 
is  engaged  in  striving  against  sin,  (Heb.  xii.  4.)  and  really  taketh 
the  flesh  and  world,  as  well  as  the  devil,  to  be  his  enemies,  and 
doth  not  only  strive,  but  conquer  in  the  main ;  but  yet,  alas !  how 
poorly  is  he  armed  ;  how  unskillful  doth  he  manage  his  Christian 
armor;  how  often  is  he  foiled  and  wounded;  how  many  a  tempta- 
tion is  he  much  unacquainted  with  ;  and.  how  many  a  snare  doth 
lie  before  him  which  he  never  did  observe  !  And  oft  he  is  over- 
come in  particular  temptations,  when  he  never  perceiveth  it,  but 
thinks  that  he  hath  conquered. 

3.  But  the  hypocnte  is  fast  ensnared  when  he  glorieth  most  of 
his  integrity,  and  is  deceived  by  his  own  heart,  and  thinketh  he  is 
something,  when  he  is  nothing ;  Gal.  vi.  3.  Luke  xviii.  20 — 23. 
When  he  is  thanking  God  that  he  is  not  as  other  men,  he  is  rejoic- 
ing in  his  dreams,  and  sacrificing  for  the  victory  which  he  never 
obtained;  ver.  11.  He  is  led  by  Satan  captive  at  his  will,  when 
he  is  boasting  of  his  uprightness  ;  and  hath  a  beam  of  covetousness, 
or  pride,  or  cruelty  in  his  own  eye,  while  he  is  reviling  or  censuring 
another  for  the  mote  of  some  difference  about  a  ceremony,  or  tol- 
erable opinion.  And  usually  such  grow  worse  and  worse,  deceiving 
and  being  deceived  ;  Matt.  vii.  3 — 5.     2  Tim.  iii.  13. 

XXVIII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  hath  deliberately 
counted  what  it  may  cost  him  to  follow  Christ,  and  to  save  his 
soul;  and  knowing  that  suffering  with  Christ  is  the  way  to  our 
reigning  with  him,  he  hath  fully  consented  to  the  terms  of  Christ. 
He  hath  read  Luke  xiv.  26,  27.  33.,  and  findeth  that  bearing  the 
cross  and  forsaking  all,  is  necessary  to  those  that  will  be  Christ's 
disciples.  And  accordingly,  in  resolution,  he  hath  forsaken  all ; 
and  looketh  not  for  a  smooth  and  easy  way  to  heaven.  He  con- 
sidereth  that  "  all  that  will  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus  must  suffer 
persecution,"  and  that  -'  through  many  tribulations  we  must  enter 
into  heaven."  And,  therefore,  he  taketh  it  not  for  a  strange  or 
unexpected  thing,  if  the  fiery  trial  come  upon  him.  He  doth  not 
wonder  at  the  unrighteousness  of  theworld,  as  if  he  expected  rea- 
son or  honesty,  justice  or  truth,  or  mercy,  in  the  enemies  of  Christ, 
and  the  instruments  of  Satan  :  he  will  not  bring  his  action  against 


518  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

the  devil,  for  unjustly  afflicting  him.  He  will  rather  turn  the  other 
cheek  to  him  that  smiteth  him,  than  he  will  hinder  the  good  of  any 
soul  by  seeking  right ;  much  less  will  he  exercise  unjust  revenge. 
Though  where  government  is  exercised  for  truth  and  righteous- 
ness, he  will  not  refuse  to  make  use  of  the  justice  of  it  to  punish 
iniquity,  and  discourage  evil  doers  ;  yet  this  is  for  God  and  the  com- 
mon good,  and  for  the  suppression  of  sin,  much  more  than  for  him- 
self Suffering  doth  not  surprise  him,  as  a  thing  unlooked  for  :  he 
hath  been  long  preparing  for  it,  and  it  findeth  him  garrisoned  in  the 
love  of  Christ.  Yea,  though  his  flesh  will  be  as  the  flesh  of  others, 
sensible  of  the  smart,  and  his  mind  is  not  senseless  of  the  sufferings 
of  his  body,  yet  it  is  some  pleasure  and  satisfaction  to  his  soul,  to 
find  himself  in  the  common  way  to  heaven,  and  to  see  the  predic- 
tions of  Christ  fulfilled,  and  to  feel  himself  so  far  conform  to  Jesus 
Christ,  his  head,  and  to  trace  the  footsteps  of  a  humbled  Redeemer 
in  the  way  before  him.  As  "  Christ  hath  suffered  for  us  in  the  flesh, 
so  doth  the  Christian  arm  himself  with  the  same  mind;"  1  Pet. 
iv.  1.  "He  rejoiceth  that  he  is  made  partaker  of  the  sufferings 
of  Christ,  that  when  his  glory  shall  be  revealed,  he  may  also  be 
partaker  of  the  exceeding  joy  ; "  ver.  12,  13.  Yea,  he  taketh  the 
reproach  of  Christ  for  a  treasure,  yea,  a  greater  treasure  than  riches, 
or  men's  fkvors  can  afford ;  Heb.  xi.  25,  26.  For  he  knovveth  if 
he  be  reproached  for  the  name  or  sake  of  Christ,  he  is  happy. 
For  thereby  he  glorifieth  that  God,  whom  the  enemy  doth  blas- 
pheme, and  so  the  Spirit  of  God  and  of  glory  resteth  on  him ;  1 
Pet.  iv.  14.  He  liveth  and  sufFereth  as  one  that  from  his  heart 
believeth,  that  "  They  are  blessed  that  are  persecuted  for  right- 
eousness' sake,  for  great  is  their  reward  in  heaven.  And  they  are 
blessed  when  men  shall  revile  them  and  persecute  them,  and  say 
all  manner  of  evil  against  them,  falsely,  for  Christ's  sake."  In  this 
they  "  rejoice  and  are  exceeding  glad,"  as  knowing  that  herein  they 
are  "  followers  of  them  who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit  the 
promise;"  Matt.  v.  10—12.  Heb.  vi.  12.  If  he  be  "offered 
upon  the  sacrifice  and  service  of  the  faith  of  God's  elect,  he  can 
rejoice  in  it  as  having  greater  good  than  evil  ;"  Phil.  ii.  17.  He 
can  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  account  them  dung,  that  he 
may  "  win  Christ,  and  be  found  in  him,  and  know  him,  and  the 
power  of  his  resurrection,  and  the  fellowshi])  of  his  sufferings,  being 
made  conformable  to  his  death ;  "  Phil.  iii.  S — 10.  Not  out  of 
surliness  and  pride  doth  he  rejoice  in  sufferings,  as  some  do,  that 
they  may  carry  the  reputation  of  holy  and  undaunted  men,  and 
seem  to  be  far  better  and  more  constant  than  others.  When  pride 
maketh  men  suffer,  they  are  partly  the  devil's  martyrs,  though  the 
cause  be  never  so  good.  Though  it  is  much  more  ordinary  for 
pride  to  make  men  suffer  rejoicingly  in  an  ill  cause  than  in  a  good ; 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAff.  51^ 

the  devil  having  more  power  on  his  own  ground  than  on  Christ's. 
But  it  is  the  love  of  Christ,  and  the  helief  of  the  reward,  and  the 
humble  neglect  of  the  mortified  flesh,  and  the  contempt  of  the  con- 
quered world,  that  maketh  the  Christian  suffer  with  so  much  joy; 
for  he  seeth  that  the  Judge .  is  at  the  door,  and  what  torments  the 
wicked  are  preparing  for  themselves  ;  and  that  as  certainly  as  there 
is  a  God  that  governeth  the  world,  and  that  in  righteousness,  so 
certainly  are  his  eyes  upon  the  righteous,  and  his  face  is  set  against 
them  that  do  evil,  (1  Pet.  iii.  12.)  and  though  "sinners  do  evil  a 
hundred  times,"  and  escape  unpunished  till  their  days  be  prolong- 
ed, yet  vengeance  will  overtake  them  in  due  time,  and  it  shall  be 
well  with  them  that  fear  the  Lord ;  and  that  he  keepeth  all  the 
tears  of  his  servants  till  the  reckoning  day.  And  if  "judgment 
begin  at  the  house  of  God,  and  the  righteous  be  saved  through  so 
much  suffering  and  labor,  what,  then,  shall  be  their  end,  that  obey 
not  the  gospel?  and  where  shall  the  ungodly  and  sinner  appear?  " 
1  Pet.  iv.  17,  18.  Eccles.  viii.  12.  Prov.  xi,  31.  xiii.  6.  Psal. 
Ivi.  8.     Deut.  xxxii.  35.     James  v.  9. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  one  that  will  forsake  all  for  the 
sake  of  Christ,  and  suffer  with  him  that  he  may  be  glorified  with 
him ;  and  will  take  his  treasure  in  heaven  for  all ;  Luke  xiv.  26. 
33.  xviii.  22.  But  he  doth  it  not  with  that  easiness,  and  alacrity, 
and  joy,  as  the  confirmed  Christian  doth.  He  hearkens  more  to 
the  flesh,  which  saith,  '  Favor  thyself.'  Suffering  is  much  more 
grievous  to  him  ;  and  sometimes  he  is  wavering  before  he  can 
bring  himself  fully  to  resolve,  and  let  go  all ;  Matt.  xvi.  22. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  looketh  not  for  much  suffering :  he 
reads  of  it  in  the  gospel,  but  he  saw  no  probability  of  it,  and  never 
believed  that  he  should  be  called  to  it  in  any  notable  degree :  he 
thought  it  probable  that  he  might  well  escape  it,  and  therefore, 
though  he  agreed  verbally  to  take  Christ  for  better  and  worse,  and 
to  follow  him  through  sufferings,  he  thought  he  would  never  put 
him  to  it.  And  indeed  his  heart  is  secretly  resolved,  that  he  will 
never  be  undone  in  the  world  for  Christ.  Some  reparable  loss  he 
may  undergo,  but  he  will  not  let  go  life  and  all.  He  will  still  be 
religious,  and  hope  for  heaven;  but  he  will  make  himself  believe 
(and  others  ifhe  can)  that  the  truth  lieth  on  the  safer  side,  and  not 
on  the  suffering  side ;  and  that  it  is  but  for  their  own  conceits, 
and  scrupulosity,  that  other  men  suffer  who  go  beyond  him ;  and 
that  many  good  men  are  of  his  opinion,  and  therefore  he  may  be 
good  also  in  the  same  opinion,  (tliough  he  would  never  have  been  of 
that  opinion,  if  it  had  not  been  necessary  to  his  escaping  of  suffer- 
ings ;)  what  flourish  soever  he  maketh  for  a  time,  "  wlien  persecu- 
tion ariseth,  he  is  offended  and  wlthereth  ;  Matt.  xiii.  21.  26.  Un- 
less he  be  so  deeply  engaged  among  the  suffering  party,  that  he 


620  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

cannot  come  off  without  perpetual  reproach;  and  then  perhaps 
pride  will  make  him  suffer  more  than  the  belief  of  heaven  or  the 
love  of  Christ  could  do.  And  all  this  is,  because  his  very  belief  is 
unrooted  and  unsound,  and  he  hath  secretly  at  the  heart  a  fear, 
that  if  he  should  suffer  death  for  Christ,  he  should  be  a  loser  by 
him,  and  he  would  not  reward  him,  according  to  his  promise, 
with  everlasting  life  ;  Heb.  iii.  12. 

XXIX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  followeth  not  Christ 
for  company,  nor  holdeth  his  belief  in  trust  upon  the  credit  of  any 
in  the  world ;  and  therefore  he  would  stick  to  Christ,  if  all  that  he 
knoweth  or  converseth  with  should  forsake  him.  If  the  rulers  of 
the  earth  should  change  their  religion,  and  turn  against  Christ,  he 
would  not  forsake  him.  If  the  multitude  of  the  people  turn  against 
him  ;  nay,  if  the  professors  of  godliness  should  fall  off,  yet  would 
he  stand  his  ground,  and  be  still  the  same.  If  the  most  learned 
men,  and  the  pastors  of  the  church,  should  turn  from  Christ,  he 
would  not  forsake  him.  Yea,  if  his  nearest  relations  and  friends, 
or  even  that  minister  that  was  the  means  of  his  conversion,  should 
change  their  minds,  and  forsake  the  tmth,  and  turn  from  Christ,  or 
a  holy  life,  he  would  yet  be  constant,  and  be  still  the  same.  And 
what  Peter  resolved  on,  he  would  truly  practice  ;  "  Though  all 
men  should  be  offended  because  of  thee,  yet  would  not  I  be  offend- 
ed. Though  I  should  die  with  thee,  yet  will  I  not  deny  thee;" 
Matt.  xxvi.  33.  35.  And  if  he  thought  himself,  as  Elias  did,  left 
alone,  yet  would  he  not  bow  the  knee  to  Baal ;  Rom.  xi.  3.  If 
he  hear  that  this  eminent  minister  falleth  off  one  day,  and  the  other 
another  day,  till  all  be  gone,  yet  still  the  foundation  of  God  standeth 
sure  ;  he  falleth  not,  because  he  is  built  upon  the  rock  ;  Matt.  vii. 
22,  23.  His  heart  saith,  '  Alas,  whither  shall  I  go,  if  I  go  from 
Christ  ?  Is  there  any  other  that  hath  the  word  and  Spirit  of  eter- 
nal life?  Can  I  be  a  gainer  if  I  lose  my  soul?'  John  vi.  67,  68. 
Matt.  xvi.  26.  He  useth  his  teachers  to  bring  him  that  light  and 
evidence  of  truth,  which  dwelleth  in  him  when  they  are  gone  ;  and 
therefore,  though  they  fall  away,  he  falleth  not  with  them. 

2.  And  the  weakest  Christian  believeth  with  a  divine  faith  of 
his  own,  and  dependeth  more  on  God  than  man  ;  but  yet  if  he  should 
be  put  to  so  great  a  trial,  as  to  see  all  the  pastors  and  Christians 
that  he  knoweth,  change  their  minds,  I  know  not  what  he  would 
do;  for  though  God  will  uphold  all  his  own,  whom  he  will  save, 
yet  he  doth  it  by  means  and  outward  helps,  together  with  his  in- 
ternal grace  ;  and  keepeth  them  from  temptations,  w^hen  he  will 
deliver  them  from  the  evil ;  and  therefore  it  is  a  doubt,  whether 
there  be  not  degrees  of  grace  so  weak  as  would  fail,  in  case  the 
strongest  temptations  were  permitted  to  assault  them.  A  strong 
man  can  stand  and  go  of  himself,  but  an  infant  must  be  carried ; 


CONFIHMK.D    f  IIR15TTAK. 


521 


and  the  lame  and  sick  must  have  others  to  support  them.  Thd 
weak  Christian  falleth,  if  his  teacher  or  most  esteemed  company 
fall:  if  they  run  into  an  error,  sect,  ot-  schism,*  he  keeps  them 
company.  He  groweth  cold,  if  he  have  not  warming  company: 
he  forgetteth  himself,  and  letteth  loose  his  sense  and  passion,  if  he 
have  not  some  to  watcli  over  him  and  warn  him.  No  man  siiould 
refine  the  help  of  otliers,  that  can  have  it ;  and- the  best  have  need 
of  all  God's  ni.eans ;  but  the  weak  Christian  needeth  them  much 
more  than  the  strong,  and  is  much  less  able  to  stand  without 
them;  Luke  xxii.  3'2.     Gal.  ii.  11 — ■14. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  built  upon  the  sand,  and  there- 
fore cannot  stand  a  storm ;  he  is  a  Christian  more  for  company, 
or  the  credit  of  man,  or  the  interest  that  others  have  in  him,  or  the 
encouragement  of  the  times,  than  from  a  firm  belief  and  love  of 
Christ,  and  therefore  falleth  when  his  props  are  gone  ;  Matt.  vii.  24. 

XXX.  1.  A  strong  Christian  can  digest  the  hardest  truths,  and 
the  hardest  works  of  Providence  :^  he  seeth  more  of  the  reason  and 
evidence  of  truths  than  others;  and  he  hath  usually  a  more  com- 
prehensive knowledge,  and  gjm  reconcile  those  truths  which  short- 
sighted persons  Suspect  to  be  inconsistent  and  contradictory,  and 
when  he  cannot  reconcile  them,  he  knoweth  they  are  reconcilable  ; 
for  he  hath  laid  his  foundation  well,  and  then  he  reduceth  other 
truths  to  that,  and  buildeth  them  on  it.  And  so  he  doth  by  the 
hardest  providences  :  whoever  is  high  or  low,  whoeser  prospereth 
or  is  afflicted,  however  human  affairs  are  carried,  and  all  things 
seem  to  go  against  the  church  and  cause  of  Christ,  he  knoweth  yet 
that  God  is  good  to  Israel,.  (Psal.  Ixxiii.  1,  2.)  and  that  he  is  the 
"•'righteous  Judge  of  all  the  earth  ;"  and  that  the  "  righteous  shall 
have  dominion  in  the  morning,"  and  "  it  shall  go  well  with  them 
that  fear  the  Lord ; ''  for  he  goeth  into  the  sanctuary,  and  foreseeth 
the  end;  Eccles.  viii.  11 — 13.  Fsal.  Ixxiii.  17.  cxv.  11.  13. 
xxxi.  19. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  is  very  hard  put  to  it, when  he  meet- 
eth  with  dilFicult  passages  of  Scripture,  and  -yviien  he  seeth  it  "  go 
with  the  righteous  according  to  the  work  of  the  wicked,  and  with 
the  wicked  according  to  the  work  of  the  righteous  ;"  Eccles.  viii. 
14.  Though  he  is  not  overturned  by  such  difficulties,  yet  his  foot 
is  ready-  to  slij),  and  he  digesteth  llicni  v,  ith  much  perplexity  and 
trouble. 

3.  But  the  seeming,  unsettled  Christian  is  often  overcome  by 
them,  and  turneth  away  from  Clirist,  and  saith,  '  These  are  hard  say- 
ings, or  hard  providences;  who  can  bear  them  ?  '  John  vl.  60.  66. 
And  thus  unbelief  thence  gathereth  matter  for  its  increase. 

XXXL   I.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  caq  exercise  all  God's 
graces  in  conjunction,  and  in  their  proper  places  and  proportion, 
VOL.  1.  66 


522  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

without  setting  one  against  another,  or  neglecting  one  while  he  is 
exercising  another.  He  can  be  humbled  without  hindering  his 
thankfulness  and  joy  ;  and  he  can  be  thankful  and  joyful  without 
hindering  his  due  liumiliiy;  his  knowledge  doth  not  destroy,  but 
quicken  his  zeal ;  his  wisdom  hindereth  not,  but  furthereth  his  in- 
nocency ;  his  faith  is  a  help  to  his  repentance,  and  his  repentance 
to  his  faith;  his  love  to  himself  doth  not  hinder,  but  help  his  Jove 
to  others  ;  and  his  love  to  God  is  the  end  of  both.  .He  can  moum 
for  the  sins  of  the  times,  and  the  calamities  of  the  church,  yea,  for 
his  own  sins  and  imperfections,  and  yet  rejoice  for  the  mercies 
which  he  hath  in  possession,  or  in  hope.  He  findeth  that  piety 
and  charity  are  necessarily  conjunct,  and  every  grace  and  duty  is 
a  help  to  all  the  rest.  Yea,  he  can  exercise  his  graces  methodical- 
ly, winch  is  the  comeliness  and  beauty  of  his  heart  and  life  ;  1  Thes. 
v.  12,  13.  16—21.     1  Pet.  ii.  17. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  have  every  grace,  and 
his  obedience  is  universal,  yet  can  he  hardly  set  himself  to  any 
duty,  but  it  hindereth  him  from  some  other  duty,  through  the  nar- 
rowness and  weakness  of  his  mind.  When  he  is  humbling  himself 
in  confession  of  sin,  he  can  scarce  be  lively  in  thankfulness  for  mer- 
cy;  when  he  rejoiceth,  it  hindereth  his  humiliation  ;  he  can  hardly 
do  one  duty  without  omitting  or  hindering  another ;  he  is  either 
all  for  joy  or  all  for  sorrow ;  all  for  love  or  all  for  fear ;  and  cannot 
well  do  many  things  at  once,  but  is  apt  to  separate  the  truth  and 
duties  which  God  hath  inseparably  conjoined. 

3.  And  for  the  seeming  Christian,  he  exerciseth  no  grace  in  sin- 
cerity, nor  is  he  universal  in  his  obedience  to  God  ;  though  he  may 
have  the  image  of  every  grace  and  duty. 

XXXII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  more  in  getting  and  using  his 
graces,  than  in  inquiring  whether  he  have  them :  he  is  very  desir- 
ous to  be  assured  that  he  is  sincere,  but  he  is  more  desirous  to  be 
so :  and  he  knoweth  that  even  assurance  is  got  more  by  the  exer- 
cise and  increase  of  grace,  than  by  bare  inquiry  whether  we  have 
it  already  ;  not  that  he  is  a  neglecter  of  self-examination,  but  he 
oftener  asketh,  '  What  shall  1  do  to  be  saved  ? '  than, '  How  shall  I 
know  that  I  shall  be  saved  ? ' 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  hath  more  of  self,  and  less  of  God  in 
his  solicitude  ;  and  though  he  be  willing  to  obey  the  whole*  law  of 
Christ,  yet  he  is  much  more  solicitous  to  know  that  he  is  out  of 
danger,  and  shallbe  saved,  than  to  be  fully  pleasing  unto  God; 
and  therefore,  proportionably,  he  is  more  in  inquiring  by  what  marks 
he  may  know  that  he  shall  be  saved,  than  by  what  means  he  may 
attain  mere  holiness,  and  what  diligence  is  necessary  to  his  salvation. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  most  careful  how  to  prosper  in 
the  world,  or  please  his  flesh  ;  and  next  how  he  may  be  sure  to 


CONFIUMKD    CHRISTIAN.  O'2'S 

escape  damnation  when  lie  liatli  done;    and  least  of  all,  how  he 
may  conform  to  Christ  in  holiness. 

XXXIII..  1 .  A  Christian  indeed  doth  study  duty  more  than 
events ;  and  is  more  careful  what  he  shall  be  towards  God,  than 
what  he  shall  have  from  God,  in  this  life.  He  looketh  to  his  own 
part  more  than  unto  God's,  as  knowing  that  it  is  he  that  is  like  to 
fail ;  but  God  will  never  fail  of  his,  part :  he  is  much  more  sus- 
picious of  himself  than  of  God  ;  and  when  any  thing  goeth  amiss,  he 
blametli  himself,  a^id  not  God's  providence  :  he  knoweth  that  the 
hairs  of  his  head  are  numbered,  and  that  his  Father  knoweth  what 
he  needeth  ;  and  that  God  is  ipfinitely  wiser,  and  fitter  to  dispose 
of  him,  than  he  is  to  choose  for  himself,  and  that  God  loveth  him 
better  than  he  can  love  himself;  and  therefore  he  thankfully  ac- 
cepteth  that  easy,  indulgent  command,  "  Cast  all  your  care  on  him, 
for  he  careth  for  you.  Take  no  thouglit  what  ye  shall  eat  or  drink, 
or  wherewith  ye  shall  be  clothed;"  Heb.  xii.  15.  xiii.  v.  Job  i. 
21,  22.     Matt.  X.  30.  vi.  25.  31,  32.    1  Pet.  v.  7. 

2.  But,  alas  !  how  guilty  is  the  weak  Christian  of-  meddling  with 
God's  part  of  the  work  !  How  sinfully  careful  what  will  become 
of  him,  and  of  his  family,  and  affairs,  and  of  the  church,  as  if  he 
were  afraid  lest  God  would  prove  forgetful,  unfaithful,  or  insuffi- 
cient for  his  work !     So  imperfect  is  his  trust  in  God. 

3.  And  the  seeming  Christian  really  trusteth  him  not  at  all,  for 
any  thing  that  he  can  trust  himself  or  the  creature  for;  he  will 
have  two  strings  to  his  bow  if  he  can ;  but  it  is  in  man  that  he 
placeth  his  greatest  trust  for  any  thing  that  man  can  do.  Indeed, 
to  save  his  soul,  he  knoweth  none  but  God  is  to  be  trusted,  and 
therefore  his  life  is  still  preferred  before  his  soul;  and  consequently 
man,  whom,  he  trusted  most  with  his  life  and  prosperity,  is  really 
trusted  before  God,  however  God  may  have  the  name ;  Jer.  xvii. 
5.  7.     Psal.  xxxiv.  8.  xx.  7.  xxxiv.  22,  xxxvii.  3. 

XXXI V.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  much  more  studious  of  his 
own  duty  towards  others,  than  of  theirs  to  him:  he  is  much  more 
fearful  of  doing  wrong,  than  of  receiving  wrong :  he  is  more  trou- 
bled if  he  say  ill  of  others,  than  if  others  speak  ill  of  him  :  he  had 
far  rather  be  slandered  himself,  than  slander  others  ;  or  be  censur- 
ed himself,  than  censure  others  ;  or  be  unjustly  hurt  himself,  than  un- 
justly hurt  another  ;  or  to  be  put  out  of  his  own  possessions 'or  right, 
than  to  put  another  out  of  his  :  he  is  oftener  and  sharper  in  judg- 
ing and  reproving  himself  than  others  :  he  falleth  out  with  himsell 
more  frequently  than  w'ith  others;  and  is  more  troubled  with  him- 
self than  with  all  the  world  besides  :  he  taketh  hiniself  for  his  great- 
est enemy,  and  knoweth  that  his  danger  is  most  at  home  ;  and  that 
if  he  can  escape  but  from  himself,  no  one  in  earth  or  hell  can  undo 
him:  he  is  more  careful  of  his  dutv  to  his  prince,  his  parents,   his 


S24  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

pastor,  or  his  master,  than  of  theirs  to  him  :  he  is  much  more  un- 
wilhng  to  be  disobedient  to  them  in  any  lawflil  thing,  or  to  dishonor 
them,  than  to  be  oppressed,  or  unjustly  afflicted,  or  abused  by  them. 
And  all  this  is,  because  he  knoweth  that  sin  is  worse  than  pres- 
ent suffering ;  and  tliat  he  is  not  to  answer  for  other  men's  sins, 
but  for  his  own  ;  nor  shall  he  be  condemned  for  the  sins  of  any  but 
himself;  and  that  many  millions  are  condemned  for  wrongino- 
others,  but  no  one  for  being  wronged  by  others;  1  Pet,  iv.  12—^ 
16.     Matt.  V.  10—12.     1  Pet.  ii.  13.  15—17.. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  of  the  same  mind  in  the  main  ;  but 
with  so  much  imperfection,  tliat  hg  is  much  more  frequent  in  cen- 
suring others,  and  complaining  of  their  wrongs,  and  finding  fault 
with  them,  and  aggravating  all  that  is  said  or  done  against  himself, 
when  he  is  hardly  made  so  sensible  of  as  great  miscarriages  in  him- 
self, as  having  much  more  undharitableness,  partiality,  and  selfish- 
ness, than  a  confirmed  Christian  hath.  There  are  few  things  which 
weakness  of  grace  doth  more  ordinarily  appear  in,  than  this  partiali- 
ty and  selfishness,  in  judging  of  the  faults  or  duties  of  others,  and 
of  his  own.  How  apt  are  (not  only  hypocrites,  but)  weak  Chris- 
tians to  aggravate  all  that  is  done  against  them,  and  to  extenuate 
or  justify  all  that  they  dp  against  another !  O,  what  a  noise  they 
make  of  it,  if  they  think  that  any  one  hath  wronged  them,  defam- 
ed them,  disparaged  them,  or  encroached  on  their  right  !  If  God 
himself  be  blasphemejd  or  abused,  they  can  more  patiently  bear  it, 
and  make  not  so  great  a  matter  of  it.  *  Who  heareth  of  such  angry 
complaints  on  God's  behalf,  as  on  men's  own  ?  Of  such  passionate 
invectives,  such  sharp  prosecutions,  against  those  that  wrong  both 
God  and  men's  souls,  as  against  those  that  wrong  a  selfish  person  ? 
(And  usually  every  man  seemeth  to  wrong  him  who  keepeth 
from  him  any  thing  which  he  would  have,  or  saith  any  thing  of  him 
which  is  displeasing  to  him.)  Go  to  the  assizes  and  courts  of  jus- 
tice ;  look  into  the  prisons,  and  inquire  whether  it  be  zeal  for  God, 
or  for  men's  selves,  which' is  the  plaintiff  and  prosecutor;  and 
whether  it  be  for  wronging  God  or  them,  that  ah  the  stir  is  made. 
Men  are  ready  to  say,  God  is  sufficient  to  right  himself.  As  if  he 
were  not  the  Original  and  the  End  of  laws  and  government,  and 
niagistrates  were  not  his  officers,  to  promote  obedience  to  him  in 
the  world. 

At  this  time  how  universal  is  men's  complaint  against  their  gov- 
ernors !  How  common  are  the  cries  of  the  poor  and  sufferers,  of  the 
greatness  of  their  burdens,  m'iseries,  aud  wants !  But  how  few  la- 
ment the  sins  against  government,  which  this  land  hath  been  sadly 
guilty  of !  The  pastors  complain  of  tlie  people's  contempt:  the 
jieople  complain  of  the  pastors'  insufficiency  and  lives.  The  mas- 
ter coinplaineth  how  liard  it  is  to  got  good  sei'vants,  that  will  mind 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN,  525 

their  business  and  profit  as  if  it  were  their  own  ;  servants  complain- 
ing of  their  masters  for  over-laboring  them  or  using  them  too  hard- 
ly.' Landlords  say  that  their  tenants  cheat  them  ;  and  tenants  say 
that  their  landlords  oppress  and  grind  them.  But  if  you  were 
Christians  indeed,  the  most  common  and  sad  complaints  would  be 
against  yourselves.  '  1  am  not  so  good  a  ruler,  so  peaceable  a  sub- 
ject, so  good  a  landlord,  so  good  a  tenant,  so  good  a  master,  so  good 
a  servant,  as  I  ought  to  be.'  Your  ruler's  sin,  your  subject's  sin, 
your  landlord's  sin,  your  tenant's  sin,  your  master's  sin,  your  ser- 
vant's sin,  shall  not  be  charged  upon  you  in  judgment,  nor  condemn 
you,  buL  your  own  sin.  How  much  more,  therefore,  should  you 
complain  of  your  own,  than  of  theirs  ! 

3.  As  for  the  seeming  Christian,  I  have  told  you  already,  that 
selfishness  is  his  nature  and  predominant  constitution  ;  and,  accord- 
ing to  self-interest,  he  judgeth  of  almost  all  things  ;  of  the  faults  and 
duties  of  others  and  himself.  And  therefore  no  man  seemeth  hon- 
est or  innocent  to  him,  whodispleaseth  him,  and  is  against  his  world- 
ly interest.  Cross  him  about  mine  and  thine,  and  he  will  beknave 
the  honestest  man  alive,  and  call  his  ancient  friend  his  enemy. 
But  of  his  dealings  with  them,  he  is  not  so  scrupulous,  nor  so  cen- 
sorious of  himself. 

XXXV.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  much  taken  up  in  the  govern- 
ment of  his  thoughts,  and  hath  them  so  much  ordinarily  in  obedi- 
.  ence,  that  God  and  his  service,  and  the  matters  of  his  salvation, 
have  that  precedency  in  them,  and  his  eye  is  fixed  on  his  end  and 
duty  ;  and  his  thoughts  refuse  not  to  serve  him  for  any  work  of 
God  to  which  he  calleth  them.  He  suffereth  them  not  to  be  the- 
inlets  or  agents  for  pride,  or  lust,  or  envy,  or  voluptuousness,  or  to 
contrive  iniquity  ;  but  if  any  such  sparks  from  hell  are  cast  into  his 
thoughts,  he  presently  laboreth  to  extinguish  them.  If  they  in- 
trude, he  letteth  them  not  lodge  or  dwell  there.  And  though  he 
cannot  keep  out  all  disorder  or  vanity,  o^  inordinate  delights,  yet  it 
is  his  endeavor,  and  he  leaveth  not  his  heart  in  any  thing  to  itself. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  also  maketh  conscie^ice  of  his  thoughts, 
and  alloweth  them  not  to  be  the  inlets  or  servants  of  any  reigning 
sin.  But,  alas  !  how  imperfectly  doth  he  govern  them!  what  a  deal 
of  vanity  and  confusion  is  in  them!  how  carelessly  doth  he  watcih 
them  !  how  remissly  doth  he  rebuke  them,  excite  them  and  com- 
mand them  !  how  oft  arc  they  defiled  with  impurity  and  imchari- 
tableness  !  and  how  little  doth  he  repent  of  this,  or  endeavor  to 
reform  it!  And  little  serviceable  are  his  thoughts,  to  any  higli  and 
heavenly  work,  in  comparison  of  the  confirmed  Christian. 

3.  And  the  seeming  Christian  is  very  little  employed  about  his 
thoughts,  but  leaveth  them  to  be  the  servants  of  his  pride,  and 


*»» 


526  CHARACTER   OF    A    SOUND, 

worldliness,  or  sensuality, or  some  reigning  sin;  Psal.  x.  4.     Matt. 
XV.  19.     1  Cor.  111.  20.    Isa.  Iv.  7.     Jer  iv.  14.  vl.  19. 

XXXVI.  1.  A  Christian  Indeed  Is  much  employed  In  the  gov- 
ernment of  his  passions  ;  and  hath  so  far  mastered  them,  as  that 
they  prevail  not  to  pervert  his  judgment,  nor  to  discompose  his 
heart  so  far  as  to  Interrupt  much  his  communion  with  God,  noj  to 
ensnare  h']^  heart  to  any  creature,  nor  to  breed  any  fixed  unchari- 
tableness  or  malice  in  him,  nor  to  cause  his  tongue  to  speak  things 
injurious  to  God  or  man  ;  to  curse,  or  swear,  or  rail,  or  lie ;  nor  yet 
to  cause  him  to  hurt  and  Injure  any  in  his  heart.  But  when  pas- 
sion would  be  inordinate,  either  in  delights  or  desires,  or  anger,  or 
grief,  or  fear,  or  hope,  he  flleth  to  his  helps  to  suppress  and  govern 
them.  (Though  fear  is  more  out  of  man's  power  than  the  rest, 
and  therefore  ordinarily  hath  less  of  sin.)  He  knoweth  that  Christ 
hath  blessed  the  meek,  (Matt.  v.  5.)  and  bids  us  learri  of  him  "to 
be  meek  and  lowly  ;"  Matt.  xl.  28,  29.  And  that  a  "  meek  and 
•quiet  spirit  is  in  the  sight  of  God  of  great  price  ;"  1  Pet.  ill.  4.  It 
is,  therefore,  his  care  and  course  to  give  place  to  wrath  when  others 
are  angry  ;  Rom.  xii.  18,  19.  And  "if  it  be  possible,  as  much  as 
in  him  lieth,  to  live  peaceably  with  all  men  ;"  (Heb.  xii.  14.)  yea, 
to  follow  peace  when  it  flleth  from  him,  and  not  when  he  is  revil- 
ed to  revile  again,  nor  to  threaten  or  revenge  himself  on  them  that 
injure  him:  1  Pet.  11.  21 — 24.  Reason  and  charity  hold  the  reins, 
and  passion  is  kept  under ;  yea,  it  is  used  holily  for  God  ;  Ephes.  iv. 
26.  Slow  to  anger  he  is  in  his  own  cause,  and  watchful  over  his 
anger  even  in  God's  cause  ;  Prov.  xv.  18.  xvi.  32.  Ephes.  iv. 
31.  Col.  ill.  8. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  doth  greatly  show  his  weakness  in 
his  unruly  passions,  (if  he  have  a  temper  of  body  disposed  to  pas- 
sion ;)  they  are  oft  rising  and  not  easily  kept  under ;  yea,  and  too 
often  prevail  for  such  unseemly  words  as  maketh  him  become 
a  dishonor  to  his  profession.  Oft  he  resolveth,  and  promisoth,  and 
prayeth  for  help,  and  yet  the  next  provocation  showeth  how  little 
grace  he  hath  to  hold  the  reins.  And  his  passionate  desires,  and 
delights,  and  love,  and  sorrows,  are  oft  as  unruly  as  his  anger,  to 
the  further  w^eakenlng  of  his  soul.  They  are  like  ague  fits,  that 
leave  the  health  impaired. 

3.  And  the  seeming  Christian  hath  much  less  power  over  those 
passions  which  must  subserve  his  carnal  mind.  For  anger  it  de- 
pendeth  much  upon  the  temperature  of  the  body  ;  and  if  that  incline 
him  not  strongly  to  it,  his  credit  or  common  discretion  may  sup- 
press it;  unless  you  touch  his  chiefest  carnal  interest,  and  then  he 
will  not  only  be  angry,  but  cruel,  malicious,  and  revengeful.  But 
his  carnal  love,  and  desire,  and  delight,  which  are  placed  upon  that 


CONFIRMKD    CHRISTIAN.  5^t 

pleasure,  or  profit,  or  honor,  which  is  his  idol,  are  indeed  the  reign- 
ing passions  in  him.  And  his  grief,  and  fear,  and  anger,  are  but 
the  servants  unto  these  ;  Acts  xxiv.  26,  27. 

XXX  VII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  keepeth  a  constant 
government  of  his  tongue ;  he  knoweth  how  much  duty  or  sin  it 
will  be  the  instrument  of.  According  to  his  ability  and  opportuni- 
ty, he  useth  it  to  the  service  and  honor  of  his  Creator ;  in  speaking 
of  his  excellencies,  his  works,  and  word ;  inquiring  after  the  knowl- 
edge of  him  and  his  will ;  instructing  others,  and  pleading  for  the 
truth  and  ways  of  God,  and  rebuking  the  impiety  and  iniquities  of 
the  world,  as  his  place  and  calling  doth  allow  him.  He  brldleth 
his  tongue  from  uttering  vanity,  filthiness,  ribaldry,  and  foolish  and 
uncomely  talk  and  jests ;  from  rash  and  irreverent  talk  of  God,  and 
taking  of  his  name  in  vain ;  from  the  venting  of  undigested  and  un- 
certain doctrines  which  may  prove  erroneous  and  perilous  to  men's 
souls ;  from  speaking  imprudently,  unhandsomely,  or  unseasonably 
about  holy  things,  so  as  to  expose  them  to  contempt  arid  scorn ; 
from  lying,  censuring  others  without  a  warrantable  ground  and  call ; 
from  backbiting,  slandering,  false-accusing,  railing  and  reviling  ; 
malicious,  envious,  injurious  speech  which  tendeth  to  extinguish 
the  love  of  the  hearers  to  those  he  speaketh  of;  from  proud  and 
boasting  speeches  of  himself;  much  more  from  swearing,  cursing, 
and  blasphemous  speech,  and  opposition  to  the  truths  and  holy 
ways  of  God,  or  opprobrious  speeches,  or  derision  of  his  servants. 
And  in  the  government  of  his  tongue,  he  always  beginneth  with  his 
heart,  that  he  may  understand  and  love  the  good  which  he  speak- 
eth of,  and  may  hate  the  evil  which  his-  tongue  forbeareth ;  and  not 
hypocritically  to  force  his  tongue  against  or  without  his  heart.  His 
tongue  doth  not  run  before  his  heart,  but  is  ruled  by  it ;  Ephes.  iv. 
15.  29.  3i.  V.  3,  4.  6.  Psal.  xxxvii.  30.  xv.  2,  3.  Prov.  xvi. 
13.  X.  20.  xxi.  23.  xviii.  21.  xv.  2.  4.  Psal.  34.  13.  Prov. 
xxv.  15.  23.  xxviii.  23.     Matt.  xii.  31,  32.  34. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  his  tongue  be  sincerely  sub- 
ject to  the  laws  of  God,  yet  frequently  miscarrieth  and  blemisheth 
his  soul  by  the  words  of  his  lips,  being  much  ofter  than  ihe  con- 
firmed Christian  overtaken  with  words  of  vanity,  meddling,  folly, 
imprudence,  uncharitableness,  wrath,  boasting,  venting  uncertain 
or  erroneous  opinions,  he,  so  that  the  unruliness  of  his  tongue  is  the 
trouble  of  his  heart,  if  not  also  of  the  family,  and  all  about  him. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  useth  his  tongue  in  the  service  of  his 
carnal  ends,  and  thoreflire  alloweth  it  so  much  injustice,  unchari- 
tableness, falsehood,  and  other  sins,  as  his  carnal  interest  and  designs 
require ;  but  the  rest  perhaps  he  may  suppress,  especially  if  natu- 
ral sobriety,  good  education  and  prudence  do  assist  him  ;  and  his 


528  CHARACTER    OF    A^SttUND, 

tongue  is  always  better  than  his  heart ;  Prov.  x.  32.  xix.  5.  9. 
Psal.  ].  20.  xii.  3.  cxHv.  8.  cxx.  2,  3.     Prov.  xxi.  6.  23. 

XXXVIII.  1.  The  rehgious  discourse  of  a  confirmed  Christian 
is  most  about  the  greatest  and  most  necessary  matters.  Heart- 
work  and  heaven-work  are  the  usual  employment  of  his  tongue  and 
thoughts ;  unprofitable  controversies  and  hurtful  WTanglings  he  ab- 
horreth;  and  profitable  controversies  he  manageth  sparingly,  sea- 
sonably, charitably,  peaceably,  and  with  caution  and  sobriety,  as 
knowing  that  the  servant  of  the  Lord  must  not  strive,  and  that 
strife  of  words  perverteth  the  hearers,  and  hindereth  edifying ;  1 
Tim.  vi.  4—6.  iv.  7,  8.  2  Tim.  ii.  i4— 17.  24,  25.  His  ordi- 
nary discourse  is  about  the  glorious  excell'encies,  attributes,  rela-- 
lions,  and  works  of  God ;  and  the  mystery  of  redemption,  the  per- 
son, office,  covenant,  and  grace  of  Christ;  the  renewing,  illuminat- 
ing, sanctifying  works  of  the  Holy  Ghost ;  the  mercies  of  this  life, 
and  that  to  come ;  the  duty  of  man  to  God  as  his  Creator,  Redeem- 
er, and  Regenerator ;  the  corruption  and  deceitfulness  of  the  heart ; 
the  methods  of  the  tempter ;  the  danger  of  particular  temptations  ; 
and  the  means  of  our  escape,  and  of  our  gi'owth  in  grace  ;  and  how 
to  be  profitable  to  others,  and  especially  to  the  church.  And  if 
he  be  called  to  open  any  truth  which  others  understand  not,  he 
doth  it  not  proudly,  to  set  up  himself  as  master  of  a  sect,  or  to  draw 
disciples  after  him,  nor  make  divisions  about  it  in  the  church ;  but 
soberly,  to  the  edification  of  the  weak.  And  though  he  be  ready 
to  defend  the  truth  against  perverse  gainsayers  in  due  season,  yet 
doth  he  not  turn  his  ordinary  edifying  discourse  into  disputes,  or 
talk  of  controversies ;  nor  hath  such  a  proud,  pugnacious  soul,  as  to 
assault  every  one  that  he  thinks  erroneous,  as  a  man  that  taketh 
himself  for  the  great  champion  of  the  truth. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  hath  a  more  unfruitful,  pandering 
tongue,  and  his  religious  discourse  is  most  about  his  opinions  or  par- 
ty, or  some  external  thing ;  as  which  is  the  best  preacher,  or  per- 
son, or  book.  Or  if  he  talk  of  any  text  of  Scripture,  or  doctrine 
of  rehgion,  it  is  much  of  the  outside  of  it;  and  his  discourse  is  less 
feeling,  lively,  and  experimental.  Yea,  many  a  time  he  hindereth 
the  more  edifying,  savory  discourse  of  others,  by  such  religious  dis- 
course as  is  imprudent,,  impertinent,  or  turneth  them  away  from  the 
heart  and  life  of  the  matter  in  hand.  But  especially  his  opinions, 
and  distinct  manner  of  worship,  are  the  chief  of  his  discourse., 

3.  And  for  the  seeming  Christian,  though  he  can  affectedly 
force  his  tongue  to  talk  of  any  subject  in  Veligion,  especially  that 
which  he  thinks  will  most  honor  him  in  the  esteem  of  the  hearers, 
yet  when  he  speaketh  according  to  the  inclination  of  his  heart,  his 
discourse  is  first  about  his  fleshly  interest  and  concernments,  and 


CONFIKiMED    CUUISTIAN.  529 

'  next  to  that  of  the  mere  externals  of  rehgioii,  as  controversies,  par- 
ties, and  the  several  modes  of  worship. 

XXXIX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  so  liveth  upon  the 
great  substantial  matters  of  religion,  as  yet  not  willingly  to  commit 
the  smallest  sin,  nor  to  own  the  smallest  falsehood,  nor  to  renounce 
or  betray  the  smallest  holy  truth  or  duty,  for  any  price  that  man 
can  offer"  him.  The  works  of  repentance^  faith,  and  love,  are  his 
daily  business,  which  take  up  his  greatest  care  and  diligence. 
Whatever  opinions  or  controversies  are  afoot,  his  work  is  still  the 
same ;  whatever  changes  come,  his  religion  changeth  not ;  he 
placeth  not  the  kingdom  of  God  in  .meats  and  drinks,  and  circum- 
stances and  ceremonies,  either  being  for  them  or  against  them,  but  in 
"righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost."  And  he 
that  in  these  things  serveth  Christ,  as  he  is  acceptable  to  God,  so  is  he 
approved  by  such  a  Christian  as  this,' however  factious  persons  may 
revile.' him;  Rom.  xiv.  17,  .18.  1 — 5.  10.  The  strong  Christian  can 
"  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak,"  and^not  take  the  course  that 
most  pleaseth  himself,  but  that  which  "  pleaseth  his  neighbor  for 
his  good  to  edification;"  Rom.  xv.  1 — 3.  The  essentials  of  reli- 
gion, faith,  and  love,  and  obedience,  are  as  bread  and  drink,  the 
substance  of  his  food.  These  he  meditateth  on,  and  these  he 
practiceth,  and  according  to  these  he  esteemeth  of  others. 

But  yet,  no  price  can  seem  sufficient  to  him  to  buy  his  inno- 
cency ;  nor  will  he  willfully  sin,  and  say,  It  is  a  little  one,  nor  "  do 
evil  that  good  may  come  by  it ;"  nor  ofter  to  God  the  sacrifice  of 
disobedient  fools,  and  then  say,  '  I  knew  not  that  I  did  evil ; '  for 
he  knoweth  that  God  w'lW  rather  have  obedience  than  sacrifice,  and 
that  "jdisobedience  is  as  the  sin  . of  witchcraft ; "  and  "he  that 
breaketh  one  of  the  least  commands,  and  teacheth  men  so,  shall  be 
called  least  in  the  kingdom  of  God."  And  he  that  teacheth  men 
to  sin,  by  the  example  of  his  own  practice,  can  little  expect  to  turn 
them  from  sin,  by  his  better  instructions  and  exhortations.  He 
that  will  deliberately  sin  in  a  small  matter,  doth  set  but  a  small 
price  on  the  favor  of  God  and  his  salv\ition.  Willful  disobedience 
is  odious  to  God,  how  small  soever  the  matter  be  about  which  it  is 
committed.  Who  can  ex|?ect  that,  ho  should  stick  at  any  sin, 
when  his  temptation  is  great',  wh^  will  considerately  commit  the 
least;  especially  if  he  will  approve  and  justify  it?  Therefore  the 
sound  Christian  will  rather  forsake  his  riches,  his  liberty,  his  repu- 
tation, his  friends,  i^nd  his  country,  than  his  conscience ;  and  rather 
lay  down  liberty,  and  life  itself,  tiian  choose^to  sin  against  his  God, 
as  knowing  that  never  man  gained  by  his  sin  ;  Rom.  iii.  8.  Eccles. 
v.  2.  1  Sam.^xv.  15.  21—23.  Matt.  v.  19.  The  sin  that  Saul 
was  rejected  for,  seemed  but  a  little  thing ;  nor  the  sin  that  \]zzo.h 
was  slain  /or;  and  the  service  of  God,  evcn  his  sacritice  arid  his 
voi..  -.  67 


530  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

ark,  were  the  pretense  for  both.  The  sin  qf  the  Belhshemites,  of 
Achan,  of  Gehazi,  of  Ananias  and  Sapphira,  which  had  grievous 
punishments,  would  seem  but  Httle  things  to  us.  And  it  is  a  great 
aggravation  of  our  sin  to  be  chosen,  dehberate,  justified,  and  father- 
ed upon  God :  and  to  pretend  that  we  do  it  for  his  service,  for  the 
worshiping  of  him,  or  the  doing  good  to  others,  as  if  God"  would 
own  and  bless  sinful  means,  or  needed  a  lie  to  his  service  or  glory  ; 
when  he  hateth  all  the  workers  of  iniquity,  (Psal.  v.  5.)  and  re- 
quireth  only  the  sacrifices  of  righteousness ;  Psal.  iv.  5.  He  ab- 
horreth  sacrifice  from  polluted  hands ;  they  are  to  him  as  the  offer- 
ing a  dog,  and  he  will  ask.  Who  hath  required  this  at  your  hand  ? 
See  Psal.  1.  8—14.  Isa.'  i.  9—12,  he.  Iviii.  1—4,  &c.  Jer. 
vi.  19,  20.  "The  sacrifice  of  the  wicked  is  abomination  to  the 
Lord;"  Prov.  xv.  8.  xxi.  27.  Il  is  not  pleasing  to  him ;  "all 
that  eat  thereof  shall  -be  polluted  ; "  Hosea  ix.  4.  See  Isa.  Ixvi. 
1 — 6.  The  preaching,  the  praying,  the  sacraments  of  willful  sin- 
ners, especially  when  they  choose  gin  as  necessary  to  his  service, 
are  a  scorn  and  mockery  put  upon  the  most  Holy  One;  as  if  your 
servant  should  set  dung  and  carrion  before  you  on  your  table  for 
your  food  ;  such  offer  Christ  vinegar  and  gall  to  drink. ^ 

2.  In  all  this  the  weakest  Christian,  that  is  sincere,  is  of  the  same 
mind,  saving  that,  in  his  ordinary  course,  he  useth  to  place  too 
much  of  his  religion  in  controversies,  and  parties,  and  modes,  and 
ceremonies,  (whether  being  for"  them  or  against  them,)  and  allow 
too  great  a  proportion  in  his  thoughts,  and  speech,  and  zeal,  and 
practice;  and  hindereth  the  growth  of  his  grace,  by  living  upon  less 
edifying  things,  and  turning  too  much  from  the  mere  substantial 
nutriment. 

3.  And  the  seeming  Christians  are  here  of  different  ways.  One 
sort  of  them  place  almost  all  their  religion  in  Pharisaical  observa- 
tion of  little,  external,  ceremonial  matters  ;  as  tlieir  washings,  and 
fastings,  and  tithings,  and  formalities,  and  the  tradition  of  the  elders  ; 
or  in  their  several  opinions,  and  ways,  and  parties,  which  they  call 
'  being  of  the  true  church ; '  as  if  their  sect  were  "all  the  church.' 
But  living  to  God  in  faith  and  love,  and  in  a  heavenly  conversation, 
and  worshiping  him  in  spirit  and  truth,  they  are  utterly  unac- 
quainted with.  The  other  sort  are  truly  void  of  these  essential 
parts  of  Christianity,  in  the  life  and  power,  as  well  as  the  former. 
But  yet,  being  secretly  resolved  to  take  up  no  more  of  Christianity 
than  will  consist  with  their  worldly  prosperity  and  ends,  when  any 
sin  seemeth  necessary  to  their  preferment  or  safety  in  the  world, 
their  way  is  to  pretend  their  high  esteem  of  greater  matters,  for  the 
swallowing  of  such  a  sin  as  an  inconsiderable  thing.  And  then 
they  extol  those  larger  souls  that  live  not  upon  circumstantials, 
but- upon  the  great  and  common  truths  and  duties,  and  pity  those 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAX.  531 

men  of  narrow  princf[)les  and  spirits,  who,  by  unnecessafy  scrupu- 
losity, make  sin  of  that  which  is  no  sin,  and  expose  tlieniselves  to 
needless  trouble.  And  they  would  make  themselves  and  others 
believe  that  it  is  their  excellency  and  wisdom  to  be  above  such 
trifling  scruples.  And  all  is  because  they  never  took  God  and 
heaven  for  their  all,  and  therefore  are  resolved  never  to  lose  all 
for  the  hopes  of  heaven  ;  and  therefore  tb  do  that,  whatever  it 
be,  which  their  worldly  interests  shall  require,  and  not  to  be  of  any 
religion  that  will  undo  them. 

•And  three  great  pretenses  are  effectual  means  in  this  their  de- 
ceit. One  is,  because  indeed  there  are  a  sort  of  persons  that  tithe 
mint  and  cumin,  while  they  pass  by  the  greatest  matters  of  the 
law,  and  that  are  causelessly  scrupulous,  and- make  that  to  be  sin 
which  indeed  is  no  sin :  and  when  such  a  scrupulous  people  are 
noted  by  their  weakness,  and  under  dishonor  among  wiser  men, 
the  hypocrite  hath  a  very  plausible  pretense  for  his  hypocrisy,  in 
I  seeming  only  to  avoid  this  ignorant  scrupulosity,  and  taking  all  for 
such  who  judge  not  his  sin  to  be  a  thing  indifferent. 

Another  great  shelter  to  the  credit  and  conscience  of  this  hyp- 
ocrite, is  the  charity  of  the  best,  sincerest  Christians,  who  always 
judge  rigidly  of  themselves,  and  gently  of  ethers.  They  would 
rather  die  than  willfully  chose  to  commit  the  smallest  sin  them- 
selves ;  but  if  they  see  another  commit  it,  they  judge  as  favorably 
of  it  as  the  case  will  bear,  and  hope  that  he  did  it  not  knowingly 
or  willfully ;  for  they  are  bound  to  hope  the  best  till  the  worst  be 
evident.  This  being  the  upright  Christian's  case,  the  hypocrite 
knoweth  that  he  shall  still  have  a  place  in  the  esteem  and  love  of 
those  charitable  Christians ;  (whose  integrity  and  moderation 
maketli  their  judgments  most  valuable  ;)  and  then  for  the  judgment 
of  God,  he  will  venture  on  it ;  and  for  the  censures  of  weaker  per- 
sons, who  themselves  are  censured  by  the  best  of  their  censorious- 
ness,  he  can  easily  bear  them. 

And  another  covert  for  the  hypocrite,  in  this  case,  is  the  different 
judgments  of  learned  and  religious  men,  who  make  a  controversy 
of  the  matter.  And  what  duty  or  sin  is  there  that  is  not  become 
a  controv'ersy  ?  Yea,  and  among  men  otherwise  well  esteemed  of, 
(except  in  the  essentials  of  religion.)  And  if  once  it  be  a  contro- 
versy whether  it  be  fi  sin  or  not,  the  hypocrite  can  say,  '  I  am  of 
the  judgment  of  such  and  such*  good  and  learned  men  ;  they  are 
very  judicious,  excellent  persons ;  and  we  must  not  judge  one  an- 
other in  controverted  cases  ;  though  we  differ  in  judgment,  we  must 
not  differ  in  affection.'  And  thus,  because  he  hath  a  shelter  for 
his  reputation  from  the  censures  of  men,  by  the  countenance  of  such 
as  accompany  lym  in  his  sin,  he  is  as  quiet  as  if  he  were  secured 
from  the  censures  of  the  Almighty. 


,« 


532  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

XL.  I.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that*highly  valueth'  time ; 
he  abhorreth  idleness,  and  all  diversions,  which  would  rob  him  of 
his  time,  and  hinder  him  from  his  work.  He  knoweth  how  much 
wprk  he  hath  to  do,  and  of  what  unspeakable  consequence  to  his 
soul,  (if  not  also  toothers.)  He  knoweth  that  he  hath  a  soul  to 
save  or  lose  ;  a  heaven  to  win  ;  a  hell  to  escape  ;  a.  death  and  judg- 
ment to  prepare  for ;  ftiany  a  sin  to  mortify,  and  many  graces  to 
get,  and  exercise,  and  increase ;  and  many  enemies  and  tempta- 
tions, tcf  overcome  ;  and  that  he  shall  nev^r  have  more  time  of  trial ; 
blit  what  is  now  undone,  must  be  undone  forever.  He  knoweth 
how  short  and  hasty  time  is,  and  also  how  uncertain ;  and  how 
short  many  hundred  years  is  to  prepare  for  an  everlasting  state,  if 
all  were  spent  in  gr'eatest  diligence ;  and  therefore  he  wondereth 
at  those  miserable  souls,  that  have  time  to  spare,  and  waste  in 
those  fooleries  which  they  call  pastimes,  even  in  stage-plays,  cards, 
and  dice,  and  long  and  tedious  feastings,  delights,  compliments, 
idleness,  and  pver-long  or  needless  visits  or  recreations.  He  mar-* 
veleth  at  the  distraction  or  sottishness  of  those  persons  that  can 
play,  and  prate,  and  loiter,  and  feast  away  precious  hours,  as  if 
their  poor,  unprepared  souls  had  nothing  to  do,  while  they  stand  at 
the  very  brink  of  a  dreadful  eternity,  and  are  so  fearfully  unready 
as  they  are.  He  taketh  that  person  who  would  cheat  him  of  his 
time,  by  any  of  these  forenamed  baits,  to  be  worse  to  him  than  a 
thief  that  would  take  his  purse  from  him  by  the  highway.  O  pre- 
cious time  !  how  highly  doth  he  value  it,  when  he  thinks  of  his 
everlasting  state,  and  thinks  Vv'hat  histe  his  death  is  making,  and 
what  reckoning  he  must  make  for  every  moment ;  what  abundance 
of  work  hath  he  for  every  hour,  which  he  is  grieved  that  he  cannot 
do !  He  hath  a  calling  to  follow,  and  he  hath  a  heart  to  search, 
and  watch,  and  study  ;  and  a  God  to  seek  and  faithfully  serve  ;  and 
many  to  do  good  to  ;  and  abundance  of  particular  duties  to  perform 
in  order  to  every  one  of  these.  But,  alas  I  time  doth  make  such 
haste  away,  that  many  things  are  left  undone,  and  he  is  afraid  lest 
death  will  find  him  very  much  behindhand  ;  and  therefore  he  is  up 
and  doing,  as  one  that  hath  use  for  e^'ery  minute ;  and  worketh 
while  it  is  day,  because  he  knoweth  that  the  night  is  coming  when 
none  can  work ;  John  ix.  4.  Redeeming  time  is  much  of  his 
wisdom  and  his  work;  Eph.  v.  16.  Col.  iv.  5.  He  had  .rather 
labor  in  the  house  of  correction  than"  live  the  swinish  life  of  idle 
and  voluptuous  gentlemen,  or  beggars,  that  live  to  no  higher  end 
than  to  live  or  to  please  their  flesh ;  or  to  live  as  worldlings  that 
lose  all  their  lives  in  the  service  of  a  perishing  world.  He  Icnow- 
eth  how  precious  time  will  be,  ere  long,  in  the  eyes  of  tliose  that 
now  make  light  of  it,  and  trifle  it  away  as  a  contemned  tiling,  as  if 
they  had  too  much. 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  533 

2.  The  weak  Christian  is  of  the*  same  mind  in  the  rfiain :  but 
when  it  cometli  to  particular  practice,  he  is  like  a  ^'eak  or  a  weary 
traveler,  that  goeth  but  slowly,  and  maketh  many  a  stop.  Though 
his  iace  is  still  heavenwards,  he  goeth  but  a  little  way  in  a  day : 
he  is  too  easily  tempted  to  idle,  or  talk,  or  feast,  or  play  away  an 
hour  unlawfully,  so  it  be  not  his  ordinary  course,  and  he  do  it  but 
seldom.  He  taketli*  not  the  loss  of  an  hour  for  so  great  a  loss  as 
the  confirmed  Christian  doth :  he  could  sooner  be  persuaded  to 
live  (though  not  an  idle  and  unprofitable,  yet)  an  easier,  less  prof- 
itable life.  The  world  and  the  flesh  haife  far  more«of  his  hours 
than  they  ought  to  have ;  though  his  weakness  tell  him  that  he 
hath  most  need  of  diligence.     * 

.3.  But  the  time  of  a  seeming  Christian  is  most  at  the  service  of 
his  fleshly  interest ;  and  for  that  it  is  principally  employed.  And 
for  that  he  can  redeem  it,  and  grudge  if  it  be  lost.  But  as  he  liv-  « 
eth  not  to  God,  so  he  cannot  redeem  his  time  for  God.  He  loseth 
it  even  when  he  seemeth  to  employ  it  besf ;  when  he  is  praying,  or 
otherwise  worshi^Ding  God,  and  doing  that  good  which  feedeth  his 
false  hopes,  he  is  not  redeeming  his  time  in  all  this.  Wiiile  he  is 
sleeping  in  security,  and  deluding  his  soul  with  a  few  formal  words, 
and  an  image  of  religion,  his  time  passeth  on,  and  he  is  hurried, 
away  to  the  dreadful  day,  and  his  -damnation  slumbereth  not ;  2 
Pet.  ii.  3.     Prov.  xx.  4.     Matt.  xxv.  6 — 8.  • 

XLI.  1 .  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  whose  very  h^rt  is  set  upon 
doing  good ;  as  one  that  is  made  to  be  profitable  to  others,  accord- 
ing to  his  ability  and  place ;  even  as  the  sun  is  made  to  shine  upon 
the  world  ;  he  could  not  be  content  to  live  idly,  or  to  labor  unprof- 
itably,  or  to  get  never  so  much  to  himself,  unless  he  some  way 
contributed  to  the  good  of  others.  ■  Not  that  he  grudgeth  at  the 
smallness  of  his  talents,  and  lowness  or  obscurity  of  his  place,  for 
he  knoweth  that  God  may  dispose  his  creatures  and  talents  as  he 
please;,  and  that  where  much  is  given,  much  is  required;  Matt. 
XXV.  Luke  xii.  48.  xix.  23.  But  what  his  Lord  hath  trusted  him 
with,  he  is  loath  to  hide,  aad  willing  to  ira})roveto  his  Master's  use. 
He  is  so  far  from  thinking  that  God  is  beholden  to  him  for  his  good 
works,  that  he  taketh  it  for  one  of  his  greatest  mercies  in  the 
world,  t^at  God  'will  use  him  in  doing  any  good ;  and  he  would 
take  it  for  a  very  great  suffering  to  be  deprived  of  such  opportuni- 
ties, or  turned  out  of  service,  or  called  to  less  of  that  kind  of  duty. 
If  he  were  a  physician,  and  denied  liberty  to  practice,  or  a  minis- 
ter, and  denied  liberty  to  preach,  it  would  far  more  trouble  him  that 
he  is  hindered  from  doing  good,  than  that  he  is  deprived  of  any 
profits  or  honors  to  himself.  He  doth  not  only  comfort  himself 
with  foresight  of  the  reward,  but  in  the  tery  doing  of  good  he 


534  •        CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

findeth  so  much  pleasure  as  niaketh  him  think  it  the  most  dehght- 
ful  Hfe  in  the  world ;  and  he  looketh  for  most  of  his  receivings 
from  God,  in  a  way  of  duty ;  John  v.  29.  Gal.  vi.  10.  Heb. 
xiii.  16.     1  Pet.  iii.  11. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  have  the  same  disposition, 
is  far  less  profitable  to  the  world :  he  is  more  for  himself,  and  less 
able  to  do  good  to  others :  he  wanteth  either  parts,  or  prudence, 
or  zeal,  or  strength.  Yea,  he  is  oft  like  the  infants,  and  sick  per- 
sons of  a  family,  that  are  not  helpful,  but  troublesome  to  the  rest. 
They  find  work  for  the -stronger  Christians  to  bear  their  infirmities, 
and  watch  them,  and  support  and  help  them.  Indeed,  as  an  infant 
is  a  comfort  to  the  mother,  through  the  power  of  her  own  love, 
even  \*hen  she  endureth  the  trouble  of  its  crying  and  uncleanness, 
so  weak  Christians  are  a  comfort"  to  charitable  ministers  and  peo- 
ple; we  are  glad  that  they  are  alive,  but  sadded  often  by  their 
distempers;  Rom.  xiv.   1.  xv.  12. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  hveth  to  himself,  and  all  his  good 
works  are  done  but  for  himself,  to  keiep  up  his  credit,  or  quiet  his 
guilty  conscience,  and  deceive  himself  with  the  false  hopes  of  a  re- 
ward, for  that  which  hisfalse-heartedness  maketh  to  be  his  sin.    If 

,he  be  a  man  of  learning  and  good  parts,  he  may  be  very  service- 
able to  the  church  ;  but  the  thanks  of  that  is  due  to  God,  and  little 
to  him,  who  seeketh  himself  more  than  God,  or  the  good  of  others, 
in  all  that  he  doth  ;  Matt.  xxv.  24 — 20. 

XLII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  truly  love  his  neighbor  as 
himself.  He  is  not  all  for  his  own  commodity:  his  neighbor's 
profit  or  good  name  is, as  his' own.  He  feeleth  himself  hurt  when 
his  neighbor  is  hurt ;  and  if  his  neighbor  prosper,  he  rejoiceth  as  if 
he  prospered  himself.  Though  his  neighbor  be  not  united  to  him, 
in  the  nearest  bonds  of  Christianity  or  piety,  yet  he  is  not  disre- 
gardful  of  the  common  unity  of  humanity.  Love  is  the  very  soul 
of  hfe  ;  Lev.  xix.  18.  Matt.  xix.  19.  xxii.  39.  Rom.  xiii.  9. 
Gal.  V.  14.     James  ii.  8.     Mark  x.  21.     1  John  iv.  10. 

2.  But  the  love  that  is  in  weaker  Christians,  though  it  be  sin- 
cere, is  weak  as  they  are,  and  mixed  with  too  much  selfishness, 
and  with  too  much  sourness  and  wrath.  Little  matters  cause  dif- 
ferences and  fallings  out.  When  it  cometh  to  MINE  and  f  HINE, 
and  their  neighbors  cross  their  interest  or  commodity,  or  stand  in 
their  way,  when  they  are  seeking  any  preferment  or  profit  to  them- 
selves, you  shall  see  too  easily,  by  their  sourness  and  contention, 
how  weak  their  love  is ;  Matt.  xxiv.  12.  1  Tim.  vi.  10.  Luke 
xxii..  24.  • 

3.  But  in  the  seeming  Christian,  selfishness  is  so  predominant, 
that  he  loveth  none  but  for  himself,  with  any  considerable  love. 


CONFIUxMED    CHRISTIAN.  535 

All  his  kindness  is  from  self-love,  because  men  love  him,  or  highly 
value  him,  or  praise  him,  or  have  done  him  some  good  turn,  or 
may  do  him  good  hereafter,  or  the  like.  If  he  hath  any  love  to 
any  for  his  own  worth,  yet  self-love  can  turn  all  that  to  hatred,  if 
they  seem  against  him,  or  cross  him  in  his  way  ;  for  no  man  that  is 
a  lover  of  the  world,  and  flesh,  and  carnal  self,  can  ever  be  a  true 
friend  to  any  other.  For  he  loveth  them  but  for  his  own  ends ; 
and  any  cross-interests  will  show  the  falsehood  of  his  love  ;  2  Tim. 
iii.  2 — 4.     Matt.  v.  46. 

XLIII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  hath  a  special  love  to  all  the 
godly  ;  such  as  endeareth  his  heart  unto  them  ;  and  such  as  will 
enable  him  to  visit  them,  and  relieve  them  in  their  wants,  to  his 
own  loss  and  hazard,  according  to  his  ability  and  opportunity.  Fot 
the  image  of  God  is  beautiful  and  honorable  in  his  eyes:  he  loveth 
not  them  so  much  as  God  in  them  ;  Christ  in  them  ;  the  Holy  Spirit 
in  them..  He  foreseeth  the  day  when  he  shall  meet  them  in  heaven, 
a.n(^  there  rejoice  in  God  with  them  to  eternity.  He  loveth  their 
company  and  converse,  and  delighteth  in  their  gracious  words  and 
lives.  And  the  converse  of  ungodly  and  empty  men  is  a  weariness 
to  him,  (unless  in  a  way  of  duty,  or  when  he  can  do  them  good.) 
"  In  his  eyes  a  vile  person  is  contemned,  but  he  honoreth  them 
that  fear  the  Lord ; "  Psal.  xv.  4.  Other  men  grieve  his  soul 
with  their  iniquities,  while  he  is  delighted  with  the  appearances  of 
God  in  his  holy  ones,  even  the  excellent  ones  on  earth  ;  Psal.  xvi. 
3.  2  Pet.  ii.  7,  8.  Yea,  the  infirmities  of  believers  destroy  not 
his  love  ;  for  he  hath  learned  of  God  himself  to  difference  between 
their  abhorred  frailties  and  their  predominant  grace ;  and  to  love 
the  very  infants  in  the  family  of  Christ.  Yea,  though  they  wrong 
him,  or  quarrel  with  him,  or  censure  him  in  their  weakness,  he 
can  honor  their  sincerity,  and  love  them  still.  And  if  some  of 
them  prove  scandalous,  and  some  seeming  Christians  fall  away,  or 
fall  into  the  most  odious  crimes,  he  loveth  religion  nevertheless ; 
but  continueth  as  high  an  esteem  of  piety,  and  of  all  that  are  up- 
right, as  he  had  before;  1  John  iv.  7,  8.  10.  John  xiii.  34,  35. 
1  Thess.  iv.  9.     1  John  iii.  U .  14.  23.     Matt.  xxv.  39,  40,  he. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  sincerely  loveth  all  that  bear  his  Father's 
image ;  but  it  is  with  a  love  so  weak  (even  \vhen  it  is  most  pas- 
sionate) as  will  sooner  be  abated  or  interrupted  by  any  tempting 
differences.  He  is  usually  quarrelsome  and  froward  with  his  breth- 
ren, and  aptcr  to  confine  his  love  to  those  that  are  of  his  own  opin- 
ion or  party.  .  And  because  God  hath  taught  him  to  love  all  that 
are  sincere,  the  devil  teinpteth  him  to  censure  thorn  as  not  sincere^ 
that  so  he  may  justify  himself  in  the  abatement  of  his  love.  Ami 
weak  Christians  are  usually  the  most  censorious,  because  they  have 
the  smallest  degree  of  love,  which  coverclh  fauks,  and  thinkcth  no 


5iJ6  CHAItAfcTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

evil,  and  Is  not  suspicious,  but  ever  apt  to  judge  the  best,  till  the 
worst  be  evident ;  1  Cor.  xiii.  4,5.  "  It  beareth  all  things,  be- 
lieveth  all  things,  (that  are  credible,)  hopeth  all  things,  endureth 
all  things  ;  "  ver.  7.  But  it  is  no  wonder  to  see  children  fall  out, 
even  about  their  childish  toys  and  trifles ;  and  what  the  dissen- 
sions of  the  children  of  the  church  have  done  against  themselves. 
in  these  kingdoms,  I  need  not,  I  delight  not,  to  record.  See  1 
Cor.  iii.  1—4.  "  And  I,  brethren,  could  not  speak  unto  you  as 
unto  spiritual,  but  as  unto  carnal,  even  as  unto  babes  in  Christ.  I 
have  fed  you  with  milk,  and  not  with  meat ;  for  hitherto  ye  were 
not  able  to  bear  it,  neither  yet  now  are  ye  able,  for  ye  are  yet  car- 
nal .;  for  whereas  there  is  among  you  envying,  and  strife,  and  di- 
visions, are  you  not  carnal,  and  walk  as  men?"       • 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  may  have  some  love  to  real  Christians, 
even  for  their  goodness'  sake  ;  but  it  is  a  love  subservient  to  his 
carnal  self-love  ;  and,  therefore,  it  shall  not  cost  him  mugh.  As 
he  hath  some  love  to  Christ,  so  he  may  have  some  love  to  Chris- 
tians ;  but  he  hath  more  to  the  world  and  fleshly  pleasures ;  and, 
therefore,  all  his  love  to  Christ  or-  Christians  will  not  make  him 
leave  his  worldly  happiness  for  them.  And,  therefore,  Christ,  at 
the  day  of  judgment,  will  not  inquire  after  empty,  barren  love, 
but  after  that  love  which  visited  and  relieved  suffering  saints.  A 
hypocrite  can  allow  both  Christ  and  Christians  such  a  cheap, 
superficial  kind  of  love,  as  will  cost  him  little.  He  will  bid  them 
lovingly,  "  Depart  in  peace,  be  ye  warmed  and  filled ; "  James  ii. 
15 — 17.     But  still  the  world  is  most  beloved. 

,XLIV.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  doth  love  his  enemies,  and  for- 
give those  that  injure  him,  and  this  out  of  a  thankful  sense  of  that 
grace  which  forgave  him  a  far  greater  debt.  Not  that  he  thinketh 
it  unlawful  to  make  use  of  the  justice  of  the  governn^ent  which 
he  is  under  for  his  necessary  protection,  or  for  the  restraint  of  men's 
abuse  and  violence.  Nor  is  he  bound  to  love  the  malice  or  injury, 
though  he  must  love  the  man.  Nor  can  he  forgive  a  crime  as  it  is 
against  God  or  the  common  good,  or  against  another,  though  he 
can  forgive  an  injury  or  debt  that  is  his  own.  Nor  is  he  bound  to 
forgive  every  debt,  though  he  is  bound  so  far  to  forgive  every 
wrong  as  heartily  to  desire  the  good  of  him  that  did  it.  Even 
God's  enemies  he  so  far  loveth  as  to  desire  God  to  convert  and 
pardon  them,  while  he  hateth  their  sin,  and  hateth  them  as  God's 
enemies,  and  desireth  their  restraint;  Psal.  cxxxix.  21,  22.  ci.  3. 
cxix.  4.  Ixviii.  1.  xxi.  8.  But  those  that  hate,  ^nd  curse,  and 
persecute  himself,  he  can  unfeignedly  love,  and  bless,  ^nd  pray 
for ;  Matt.  v.  43 — 48.  For  he  knoweth  that  else  he  cannot  be  a 
child  of  God;  ver.  45.  And  that  to  love  those  that  love  him  is 
not  much  praiseworthy,  being  no  more  than  heathens  and  wicked 


CONFIUMEI>    CHRISTIAN.  5.37 

men  can  do ;  ver.  46,  47.  He  is  so  deeply  sensible  of  that  won- 
drous love  which  so  dearly  redeemed  him,  and  saved  him  from  hell, 
and  forgave  him  a  tliousand-fold  worse  than  the  worst  that  ever 
was  done  against  himself,  that  thankfulness  and  imitation,  or  con- 
formity to  Christ  in  his  great  compassions,  do  overcome  his  desires 
of  revenge,  and  make  him  willing  to  do  good  to  his  most  cruel 
enemies,  and  pray  for  them  as  Christ  and  Stephen  did  at  their 
deaths ;  Luke  xxiii.  34.  Acts  vii.  60.  And  he  knoweth  that  he 
is  so  inconsiderable  a  worm,  that  a  wrong  done  to  him  as  such,  is 
the  less  considerable ;  and  he  knoweth  that  he  daily  wrongeth 
God  more  than  any  man  can  wrong  him,  and  that  he  can  hope  for 
pardon  but  on  condition  that  he  himself  forgive ;  Matt.  vi.  12.  14, 
15.  xviii.  34.  35.  And  that  he  is  far  more  hurtful  to  himself  than 
any  other  can  be  to  him. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  can  truly  love  an  enemy,  and  forgive 
a  wrong ;  but  he  doth  it  not  so  easily  and  so  fully  as  the  other. 
But  it  is  with  much  striving,  and  some  unwillingness  and  averse- 
ness ;  and  there  remaineth  some  grudge  or  strangeness  upon  the 
mind.  He  doth  not  sufficiently  forget  the  wrong  which  he  doth 
forgive.  Indeed,  his  forgiving  is  very  imperfect,  like  himself,  (Matt, 
xviii.  21.  Luke  ix.  54,  55.)  not  with  that  freeness  and  readiness 
required.  "  With  all  lowliness  and  meekness,  with  long-suffering, 
forbearing  one  another  in  love  ;  "  Eph.  iv.  2.  "  Put  on  therefore, 
as  the  elect  of  God,  holy  and  beloved,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness, 
humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long-suffering,  forbearing  one 
another,  and  forgiving  one  another ;  even  as  Christ  forgave  you,  so 
also  do  ye;"  Col.  iii.  13.  18.  "Avenge  not  yourselves,"  k,c. 
Rom.  xii.  14.  19. 

3.  As  for  the  seeming  Christian,  he  can  seem  to  forgive  wrongs 
for  the  sake  of  Christ,  but  if  he  do  it  indeed  it  is  for  his  own  sake ; 
as  because  it  is  for  his  honor,  or  because  the  person  hath  humbled 
himself  to  him,  or  his  commodity  requireth  it,  or  he  can  make  use 
of  his  love  and  service  for  his  advantage,  or  some  one  hath  interpos- 
ed for  reconciliation  who  must  not  be  denied,  or  the  like.  But  to 
love  an  enemy  indeed,  and  to  love  that  man  (be  he  never  so  good) 
who  standeth  in  the  way  of  his  preferment,  honor  or  commodity  in 
the  world,  he  never  doth  it  from  his  heart,  whatever  he  may  seem 
to  do;  Matt.  vi.  14,  15.  xviii.  27.  30.  32.  The  love  of  Christ 
doth  not  constrain  him. 

XLV.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  as  precise  in  the  justice  of  his 
dealings  with  men  as  in  acts  of  piety  to  God.  For  he  knoweth 
that  God  requireth  this  as  strictly  at  his  hands.  "•  That  no  man 
go  beyond  or  defraud  his  brother  in  any  matter ;  for  the  Lord  is 
the  avenger  of  all  such,  as  we  also  have  forewarned  and  testified ;  " 
I  Thess.  iv.  6.  He  is  one  that  ''  walketh  uprightly,  and  worketh 
VOL.   I.  68 


538  CHARACTER    OV    A    SOUND, 

righteousness,  arid  speaketh  the  truth  in  his  heart,  that  backbiteth 
not  with  his  tongue,  nor  doth  evil  to  his  neighbor,  nor  taketh  up  a 
reproach  against  his  neighbor.  If  he  swear  to  his  oun  hurt,  he 
changeth  not.  He  putteth  not  out  his  money  to  (unjust  or  unmer- 
ciful) usury  ;  nor  taketh  reward  against  the  innocent ; "  Psal.  xv. 
He  obeyeth  that,  (Lev.  xix.  13.)  "Thou  shall  not  defraud  thy 
neighbor,  neither  rob  him :  the  wages  of  him  that  is  hired  shall  not 
abide  with  thee  all  night  until  the  morning. "  He  can  say  as 
Samuel,  "  Whose  ox  or  ass  have  I  taken  ?  or  whom  have  I  de- 
frauded? Whom  have  I  oppressed?  or  of  whose  hand  have  I 
received  any  bribe,  to  blind  mine  eyes  therewith,  and  I  will  restore 
it  ?  And  they  said,  Thou  hast  not  defrauded  us,  nor  .oppressed  us, 
neither  hast  thou  taken  out  of  any  man's  hand ; "  1  Sam.  xii. 
And  if  heretofore  he  was  ever  guilty  of  defrauding  any,  he  is  willing 
to  his  power  to  make  restitution;  and  saith  as  Zaccheus,  "  If  I 
have  taken  any  tiring  from  any  man  by  false  accusation,  I  restore 
him  fourfold  ;  "  Luke  xix.  8.  Though  flesh  and  blood  persuade 
him  to  the  contrary,  and  though  it  leave  him  in  want,  he  will  pay 
his  debts,  and  make  restitution  of  that  which  is  ill  gotten,  as  being 
none  of  his  own.  He  will  not  sell  for  as  much  as  he  can  get,  but 
for  as  much  as  it  is  truly  worth  :  he  will  not  take  advantage  of  the 
weakness,  or  ignorance,  or  necessity  of  his  neighbor :  he  knoweth 
that  "  a  false  balance  is  abomination  to  the  Lord,  but  a  just  weight 
is  his  delight ;  "  Prov.  xi.  1.  He  is  afraid  of  believing  ill  reports, 
and  rebuketh  the  backbiter ;  chap.  xxv.  23.  He  is  apt  to  take 
part  with  any  man  behind  his  back,  who  is  not  notoriously  inexcu- 
sable ;  not  to  justify  any  evil,  but  to  show  his  charity,  and  his 
hatred  of  evil  speaking,  especially  where  it  can  do  no  good.  He 
will  not  believe  evil  of  another  till  the  evidence  do  compel  him  to 
believe  it.  If  he  have  wronged  any  by  incautious  words,  he  readi- 
ly confesseth  his  fault  to  him,  and  asketh  him  forgiveness,  and  is 
ready  to  make  any  just  satisfaction  for  any  wrong  that  he  hath 
done  him.  He  borroweth  not  when  he  seeth  not  a  great  probabil- 
ity that  he  is  likely  to  pay  it.  Nor  will  remain  in  debt  by  retain- 
ing that  which  is  another  man's  against  his  will,  without  an  abso- 
lute necessity.  "  Owe  no  man  any  thing,  but  to  love  one  another ;  " 
Rom.  xiii.  8.  For  to  borrow  when  he  cannot  pay  is  but  to  steal. 
Bego-infr  is  better  than  borrowing  for  such.  "  The  wicked  borrow- 
eth,  and  payeth  not;"  Psal.  xxxvii.  2L 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  maketh  conscience  of  justice  as  well 
as  acts  of  piety,  as  knowing  that  God  hath  no  need  of  our  sacrifices, 
but  loveth  to  see  us  do  that  which  is  good  for  human  society,  and 
which  we  have  need  of  from  each  other.  But  yet  he  hath  more 
selfishness  and  partiality  than  the  confirmed  Christian  hath,  and 
therefore  is  often  overcome  by  temptations  to  unrighteous  things ; 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  539 

as  to  stretch  his  conscience  for  his  commodity,  in  buying  or  selling, 
and  concealin<r  the  faults  of  what  he  selleth,  and  sometimes  over- 
reaching  others.  Especially  he  is  ordinarily  too  censorious  of 
others,  and  apt  to  be  credulous  of  evil  reports,  and  to  be  over-bold 
and  forward  of  speaking  ill  of  men  behind  their  backs,  and  without 
a  call ;  especially  against  persons  that  differ  from  him  in  niattei-s 
of  religion,  where  he  is  usually  most  unjust  and  apt  to  go  beyond 
his  bounds;  James  iii.  15,  16.  Tit.  iii.  2.  Eph.  iv.  31.  1  Pet. 
ii.  1. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  may  have  a  seeming  justice  ;  but 
really  he  hath  none  but  what  must  give  place  to  his  fleshly  interest ; 
and  if  his  honor,  and  commodity  and  safety  require  it,  he  will  not 
stick  to  be  unjust.  And  that  justice  which  wanteth  but  a  strong 
temptation  to  overturn  it,  is  almost  as  bad  as  none.  If  he  will  not 
seize  on  Naboth's  vineyard,  nor  make  himself  odious  by  oppression 
or  deceit,  yet  if  he  can  raise  or  enrich  himself  by  secret  cozenage, 
and  get  so  fair  a  pretense  for  his  injustice,  as  shall  cloak  the  matter 
from  the  sight  of  men,  he  seldom  sticketh  at  it.  It  is  an  easy 
matter  to  make  an  Achan  think  that  he  doth  no  harm,  or  a  Gehazi 
that  he  wrongeth  no  man,  in  taking  that  which  was  offered  and 
due.  Covetousness  will  not  confess  its  name  ;  but  will  find  some 
reasonings  to  make  good  all  the  injustice  which  it  doth  ;  1  Tim. 
vi.  5.     2  Kings  v.  19,  20. 

XL VI.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  faithful  and  laborious  in  his 
particular  calling,  and  that  not  out  of  a  covetous  mind ;  but  in  obe- 
dience to  God,  and  that  he  may  maintain  his  family,  and  be  able 
to  do  good  to  others.  For  God  hath  said,  "  In  the  sweat  of  thy 
face  thou  shalt  eat  thy  bread;"  Gen.  iii.  19.  "And  six  days 
shalt  thou  labor;"  Exod.  xx.  10.  And  with  quietness  men  must 
work,  and  eat  their  own  bread  ;  and  "  If  any  will  not  work,  neither 
should  he  eat;"  2  Thess.  iii.  10 — 12.  Abraham,  and  Noah,  and 
Adam,  labored  in  a  constant  course  of  employment.  He  knoweth 
that  a  sanctified  calling  and  labor  is  a  help,  and  not  a  hindrance  to 
devotion ;  and  that  the  body  must  have  work  as  well  as  the  soul, 
and  religion  must  not  be  pretended  for  slothful  idleness,  nor  against 
obedience  to  our  Master's  will ;  Prov.  xxxi. 

2.  The  weak  Christian  is  here  more  easily  deceived,  and  made 
believe  that  religion  will  excuse  a  man  from  bodily  labor,  and  un- 
der the  color  of  devotion  to  live  idly.  "They  learn  to  be  idle, 
wandering  about  from  house  to  house,  and  not  only  idle,  but  tattlers 
also  and  busybodies,  speaking  things  which  they  ought  not ; "  2  Thes. 
iii.  8.  1  Tim.  v.  13.  Slothfulness  is  a  sin  much  condemned  in 
the  Scriptures ;  Ezek.  xvi.  49.  Prov.  xxiv.  30.  xviii.  9.  xxi. 
25.     Matt.  XXV.  26.     Rom.  xii.  11. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  in  his  labor  is  ruled  chiefly  by   his 


540 


CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


flesh.  If  he  be  rich,  and  it  inclines  him  most  to  sloth,  he  maketh 
small  conscience  of  living  in  idleness,  under  the  pretense  of  his 
gentility  or  wealth.  But  if  the  flesh  incline  him  more  to  covetous- 
ness,  he  will  be  laborious  enough  ;  but  it  shall  not  be  to  please 
God  by  obedience,  but  to  increase  his  estate,  and  enrich  himself 
and  his  posterity,  whatever  better  reason  he  pretend. 

XL VII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  exactly  conscionable  in  the 
duties  of  his  relation  to  others  in  the  family  and  place  of  his  abode. 
If  he  be  a  husband,  he  is  loving,  and  patient,  and  faithful  to  his 
wife;  if  he  be  a  father,  he  is  careful  of  the  holy  education  of  his 
children  ;  if  he  be  a  master,  he  is  just  and  merciful  to  his  servants, 
and  careful  for  the  saving  of  their  souls  ;  if  he  be  a  child  or  ser- 
vant, he  is  obedient,  trusty,  diligent,  and  careful,  as  well  behind  his 
parent's  or  his  master's  back,  as  before  his  face.  He  dare  not  lie, 
nor  steal,  nor  deceive,  nor  neglect  his  duty,  nor  speak  dishonorably 
of  his  superiors,  though  he  were  sure  he  could  conceal  it  all.  For 
he  knoweth  that  the  fifth  commandment  is  enforced  with  a  special 
promise  ;  Eph.  vi.  2.  5.  9.  And  that  a  bad  child,  or  a  bad  servant, 
a  bad  husband  or  wife,  a  bad  parent  or  master,  cannot  be  a  good 
Christian  ;  Col.  iii.  18,  19,  &c.     iv.  1.     1  Pet.  ii.  18. 

2.  But  weak  Christians,  though  sincere,  are  ordinarily  weak  in 
this  part  of  their  duty,  and  apt  to  yield  to  temptations,  and  carry 
themselves  proudly,  stubbornly,  idly,  disobediently,  as  eye-servants 
that  are  good  in  sight ;  or  to  be  unmerciful  to  inferiors,  and  neglect- 
ers  of  their  souls  ;  and  to  excuse  all  this  from  the  faults  of  those 
that  they  have  to  do  with,  and  lay  all  upon  others,  as  if  the  fault 
of  husband,  wife,  parent,  master,  or  serv-ant,  would  justify  them 
in  theirs,  and  passion  and  partiality  would  serve  for  innocency. 

3.  And  the  hypocrite  ordinarily  showeth  his  hypocrisies  by  being 
false  in  his  relations  to  man,  while  he  pretendeth  to  be  pious  and 
obedient  unto  God.  He  is  a  bad  master  and  a  bad  servant,  when 
his  filthy  interest  requireth  it,  and  vet  frliinketh  himself  a  good 
Christian  for  all  that.  For  all  men  being  faulty,  it  is  easy  to  find 
a  pretense  from  all  men  that  he  doth  abuse,  to  cover  the  injury  of 
his  abuse.  Cain,  Ham,  EH,  Absalom,  Judas,  &c.,  are  sad  exam- 
ples of  this. 

XL VIII.  1 .  A  Christian  indeed  is  the  best  subject,  whether 
his  prince  be  good  or  bad ;  though  by  infidel  and  ungodly  rulers  he 
be  oft  mistaken  for  the  worst.  He  obeyeth  not  his  rulers  only  for 
his  own  ends,  but  in  obedience  to  God  ;  and  not  only  for  fear  of 
punishment,  but  for  conscience  sake.  He  looketh  on  them  in  their 
relations  as  the  officers  of  God,  and  armed  with  his  authority,  and 
therefore  obeyeth  God  in  them.  He  permitteth  not  dishonorable 
thoughts  of  them  in  his  heart ;  much  less  dare  he  speak  dishonora- 
bly of  them:  Exod.  xii.   Prov.  xxiv.  21.  1    Pet.  ii.  13.  17.  Prov. 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  541 

viii.  15.  Acts  xxiii.  4,  5.  Eccles.  x.  4.  20.  He  knowetli  that 
every  soul  must  be  subject  to  the  higher  powers,  and  not  resist ; 
and  that  there  is  no  power  but  of  God.  "Whosoever  therefore 
resisteth  the  power  resisteth  the  ordinance  of  God  ;  and  he  that  re- 
sisteth  shall  receive  to  himself  damnation;"  Rom.  xiii.  1 — 6. 
Therefore  in  all  things  lawful  he  obeyeth  them.  And  though  he 
must  not,  nor  will  not  obey  them  against  God,  yet  will  he  suffer 
patiently  wiien  he  is  wronged  by  them  ;  and  not  only  forbear  re- 
sistance by  arms  or  violence,  but  also  all  reproachful  words,  as 
knowing  that  the  righting  of  himself  is  not  so  necessary  to  the  pub- 
lic order  and  good  as  the  honor  of  his  rulers  is.  Usurpers  may 
probably  charge  him  to  be  a  traitor,  and  seditious  and  rebellious, 
because  he  dare  not  approve  of  their  usurpations  ;  and  when  sev- 
eral are  contending  for  the  government,  and  in  a  litigious  title 
the  lawyers  mislead  him,  when  the  controversy  is  only  among  them, 
and  belongs  to  their  profession,  it  is  possible  he  may  mistake  as 
well  as  the  lawyers,  and  take  him  to  have  the  better  title  that  hath 
the  worse.  But  in  divinity  he  knoweth  there  is  no  controversy 
whether  every  soul  must  be  subject  to  the  highest  power,  so  far 
as  -he  can  know  it ;  and  that  prayer  and  patience  are  the  subject's 
arms ;  and  religion  is  so  far  from  being  a  warrant  to  resist,  that  it 
plainly  forbiddeth  disobedience  and  resistance  ;  and  none  are  more 
obliged  to  submission  and  quietness  than  Christians  are.  The 
Spirit  of  Christianity  is  not  of  this  world  ;  their  kingdom  and  their 
hopes  are  not  of  this  world ;  and,  therefore,  they  contend  not 
for  dignities  and  rule ;  much  less  by  resisting  or  rebelling  against 
^their  lawful  governors.  But  they  are  resolved  to  obey  God,  and 
secure  their  everlasting  portion,  and  bear  all  the  injuries  which  they 
meet  with  in  the  way,  especially  from  those  whom  God  hath  set 
over  them.  There  is  no  doctrine  that  ever  was  received  in  the 
world,  so  far  from  befriending  seditions  and  rebellion,  as  the  doc- 
trine of  Christ;  nor  any  people  in  the  world  so  loyal  as  Christians, 
while  Christianity  retained  its  genuine  simplicity  ;  till  proud,  domi- 
neering, worldly  men,  for  carnal  ends,  pretended  themselves  to  be 
Christians,  and  perverted  the  doctrine  of  Christ  to  make  it  warp 
to  their  ambitious  ends.  Suffering  seemeth  not  so  great  a  matter 
to  a  holy,  mortified,  heavenly  mind,  as  to  tempt  him  to  hazard  his 
salvation  to  resist  it.  No  man  is  so  likely  to  be  tme  to  kings  as 
he  that  believeth  that  his  salvation  lieth  on  it,  by  the  ordinance  of 
God  ;  Rom.  xiii.  3.  And  princes  that  are  wise  and  just,  do  always 
discern  that  tlie  best  Christians  are  their  best  subjects  ;  though 
those  that  are  unbelieving  and  ungodly  themselves,  have  ever  hat- 
ed them  as  the  greatest  troubles  of  the  earth.  And  it  hath  ever 
been  the  practice  of  the  enemies  of  Christ  and  godliness  to  do  all 
they  can  to  engage  the  rulers  of  the  rarfh  against  them,  and   to 


542  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

persuade  them  that  the  most  godly  Christians  are  persons  of  dis- 
loyal and  unquiet  minds  ;  and  by  vexing  and  persecuting  them, 
they  do  their  worst  to  make  them  such  as  they  falsely  called  them. 
Even  Christ  himself  was  crucified  as  an  enemy  to  Caesar,  and  Pi- 
late driven  to  it  by  the  noise  of  them  that  cried  out,  that  if  he  let 
them  go  he  was  not  Caesar's  friend;  John  xix.  12.  They  first 
tempted  him  with  the  question,  "  Whether  it  were  lawful  to  pay 
tribute  unto  Csesar;"  Matt.  xxii.  17.  Luke  xx.  22.  And  though 
they  could  this  way  take  no  hold  of  him,  yet  this  was  the  first  arti- 
cle of  his  accusation  :  "  We  have  found  this  fellow  perverting  the 
nation,  and  forbidding  to  give  tribute  to  Caesar;"  Luke  xxiii.  2. 
And  how  loyal  would  those  rebellious  Jews  seem,  when  they 
thought  it  the  only  way  to  engage  the  Roman  power  against  Christ ! 
Then  they  cry  out,  "  We  have  no  king  but  Caesar  ; "  John  xix. 
15.  And  this  was  the  common  accusation  against  the  Christians 
both  by  Jews  and  Gentiles.  The  language  of  the  Jews  you  may 
hear  from  Tertullus  :  "  We  have  found  this  man  a  pestilent  fellow, 
and  a  mover  of  sedition  among  all  the  Jews  throughout  the  world, 
and  a  ringleader  of  the  sect  of  the  Nazarenes ; "  Acts  xxiv.  5. 
And  at  Thessalonica,  the  charge  against  them  was,  that  they 
"  turned  the  world  upside  down,  and  did  all  contrary  to  the  decrees 
of  Caesar ;  "  chap.  xvii.  6,  7.  And  thus  the  best  Christians  have 
by  such  been  slandered  from  age  to  age ;  because  the  devil  and  his 
instruments  know  not  how  sufficiently  to  molest  them,  except  they 
engage  the  rulers  against  them.  But  yet  all  this  doth  not  conquer 
the  patience  and  loyalty  of  confirmed  Christians.  They  are  wiser 
than  that  wise  man  that  Solomon  saith,  "  Oppression  maketh  mad  ;  " 
Eccles.  vii.  7.  If  usurpers  or  malicious  liars  shall  a  thousand  times 
call  them  rebellious  and  seditious,  it  shall  not  drive  them  from  their 
due  subjection.  They  can  patiently  follow  their  Lord  and  the  an- 
cient Christians,  in  the  enduring  of  such  slanders,  and  suffering  as 
enemies  to  Csesar,  so  they  do  but  escape  the  sin,  and  be  not  such 
as  malice  calleth  them.  They  had  rather  die  as  reputed  enemies  to 
government,  than  to  be  such  indeed.  They  prefer  subjection  before 
the  reputation  of  it ;  for  they  look  not  for  their  reward  from  princes, 
but  from  God.  If  they  can  preserve  their  innocence,  they  can  bear 
the  defamation  of  their  names,  being  satisfied  in  the  hopes  of  the  joy- 
ful day  of  the  judgment  of  Christ,  which  will  fully  justify  them  and 
set  all  straight.  Indeed,  they  know  that  a  state  of  subjection  is  easier 
and  safer  than  places  of  command,  and  that  it  is  easier  to  obey  than 
govern.  And  so  far  are  they  from  envying  men's  greatness,  and  from 
desiring  dominions,  that  they  pity  the  tempted,  and  dangerous,  and 
troublesome  state  of  those  in  power,  and  are  thankful  to  God  for 
their  quieter  and  safer  station.  They  heartily  pray  for  kings  and 
fill  that  iire  in  authority ;  not  that  by  their  favor  they  may  rise  to 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  543 

places  of  wealth  and  honor,  but  "  that  under  them  they  may  live 
a  quiet  and  peaceable  life,  in  all  godliness  and  honesty ;  1  Tim.  ii. 
2.  Yea,  though  infidel  princes  hate  and  persecute  them,  they 
continue  to  pray  for  them,  and  to  honor  their  authorhy,  and  will 
not  thereby  be  driven  from  their  duty.  If  God  cast  their  lot  under 
infidel,  ungodly,  and  malicious  governors,  they  do  not  run  to  arms, 
to  save  themselves,  or  save  the  gospel ;  as  if  God  had  called  them 
to  reform  the  world,  or  keep  it  from  the  oppression  of  the  higher 
powers.  Nor  do  they  think  it  a  strange,  intolerable  matter  for  the 
best  men  to  be  lowest,  and  to  be  the  suffering  side,  and  so  fall  to 
fighting  that  Christ  and  the  saints  may  have  the  rule.  For  they 
know  that  Christ's  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  (John  xviii.  36.) 
that  it  is  not  a  visible  monarchy,  as  his  usurping  vicar  doth  pretend  ; 
and  that  Christ  doth  most  eminently  ruje  unseen,  and  disposeth  of 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world,  even  where  he  is  hated  and  resisted  ; 
and  that  the  reign  of  saints  is  in  their  state  of  glory ;  and  that  all 
God's  graces  do  fit  them  more  for  a  suffering  life  than  for  worldly 
power.  Their  humility,  meekness,  patience,  self-denial,  contempt 
of  the  world,  and  heavenly-mindedness,  are  better  exercised  and 
promoted  in  a  suffering  than  a  prosperous  reigning  state.  When 
they  think  of  the  holy  blood  which  hath  been  shed  by  heathen 
Rome,  from  Christ  and  Stephen,  till  the  days  of  Constantine;  and 
the  far  greater  streams  which  have  been  shed  by  the  bloody  papal 
Rome;  wherever  they  had  power,  in  Piedmont,  Germany,  Po- 
land, Hungary,  in  Belgia,  England,  and  in  other  lands ;  the  thirty 
or  forty  thousand  murdered  in  a  few  days  at  the  Bartholomew 
massacre  in  France  ;  the  two  hundred  thousand  murdered  in  a  few 
weeks  in  Ireland, — they  are  not  so  unlike  their  suffering  brethren  as 
to  think  that  striving  for  honors  and  command  is  their  w'ay  to  heav- 
en. When  Christ  hath  foretold  them  that  self-denial  under  the 
cross,  tribulation,  and  persecution,  is  the  common  way,  (Luke  xiv. 
26,  27.  29.  S3.  Acts  xiv.  22.  John  xvi.  33.  Rom.  v.  3.  viii. 
35.  2Tim.  iii.  12.  Matt.  v.  10—12.  2  Thess.  ii.  6,  7.  10. 
Mark  x.  30.)  so  far  are  they  from  fighting  against  the  injuries 
and  cruelties  of  their  governors,  that  they  account  the  reproach 
of  Christ  to  be  greater  riches  than  all  their  treasures,  (Heb.  xi. 
25,  26.)  and  think  they  are  blessed  when  they  are  persecuted, 
(Matt.  V.  10.)  and  say  with  Paul,  "God  forbid  that  I  should  glo- 
ry, save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  whom  the  world 
is  crucified  to  me,  and  I  unto  the  world;"  Gal.  vi.  14.  and  2 
Cor.  xii.  19.  "Therefore  I  take  pleasure  in  infirmities,  in  re- 
proaches, in  necessities,  in  persecutions,  in  distresses  for  Christ's 
sake  ;  for  when  I  am  weak,  then  I  am  strong."  ■'  Nay,  in  all  these 
things,  when  persecuted  and  killed  all  the  day  long,  and  counted 
as  sheep  to  the  slaughter,  they  are  more  than  conquerors  through 


544  CHARACTER   OF    A    SOUND, 

Christ ;  "    Rom.  viii.  35 — 37.     They  obtain  a  nobler  conquest 
than  that  which  is  obtained  by  the  sword. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  having  less  patience,  and  more  self- 
ishness and  passion,  is  more  easily  tempted  to  break  his  bounds,  and 
with  Peter  run  to  his  unauthorized  sword,  when  he  should  submit 
to  suffering  ;  Matt.  xxvi.  51,  52.  And  his  interest  and  sufferings 
cause  his  passions  to  have  too  great  a  power  on  his  judgment,  so 
that  he  is  more  easily  tempted  to  believe  that  to  be  lavvlul,  which 
he  thinks  to  be  necessary  to  his  own  preservation ;  and  to  think 
that  the  gospel  and  the  church  are  falling,  when  the  power  of  men 
is  turned  against  them ;  and  therefore  he  must,  with  Uzzah,  put 
forth  his  hand  to  save  the  ark  of  God  from  falhng.  He  is  more 
troubled  at  men's  injustice  and  cruelty,  and  maketh  a  wonder  of  it 
to  find  the  enemies  of  Christ  and  godliness  to  be  unreasonably  im- 
pudent and  bloody  ;  as  if  he  expected  reason  and  righteousness  in 
the  malicious  world.  His  sufferings  fill  him  more  with  discontent, 
and  desires  of  revenge  from  God;  Luke  ix.  54.  and  his  prosperi- 
ty too  much  lifts  him  up  ;  2  Chron.  xxxii.  25.  And  in  the  litigious 
titles  of  pretenders  to  supremacy,  he  is  oft  too  hasty  to  interest  him- 
self in  their  contentions,  as  if  he  understood  not  that  whoever  is  the 
conqueror  will  count  those  rebels  that  were  on  the  other  side ;  and 
that  the  enemies  of  Christ  will  cast  all  the  odium  upon  Christianity 
and  piety,  when  the  controversy  is  only  among  the  statesmen  and 
lawyers,  and  belongs  not  to  religion  at  all. 

3.  The  seeming  Christian  will  seem  to  excel  all  others  in  loyal- 
ty and  obedience,  when  it  maketh  for  his  carnal  ends  :  he  will  flat- 
ter rulers  for  honors  and  preferment,  and  always  be  on  the  rising 
side,  unless  when  his  pride  engageth  him  in  murmurings  and  rebel- 
lions. He  hath  a  great  advantage  above  true  Christians  and  honest 
men,  to  seem  the  most  obedient  subject ;  because  he  hath  a  stretch- 
ing conscience,  that  can  do  any  thing  for  his  safety  or  his  worldly 
ends.  If  he  be  among  the  Papists,  he  can  be  a  Papist  ;  if  among 
Protestants,  he  is  a  Protestant ;  and  if  he  were  among  Turks,  it  is 
likely  he  would  rather  turn  a  Mahometan  than  be  undone.  No 
prince  or  power  can  command  him  any  thing  which  he  cannot  yield 
to,  if  his  worldly  interest  require  it.  If  there  be  a  law  for  wor- 
shiping the  golden  image,  it  is  the  conscionable  servants  of  God, 
and  not  the  time-servers,  that  refuse  to  obey  it ;  Dan.  iii.  If 
there  be  a  law  against  praying,  (Dan.  vi.)  it  is  Daniel,  and 
not  the  ungodly  multitude,  that  disobey  it.  If  there  be  a  command 
against  preaching,  (Acts  iv.  17,  18.)  it  is  the  holy  apostles  and  best 
Christians  that  plead  the  command  of  God  against  it,  and  refuse 
obedience  to  it ;  ver.  20.  29.  The  self-seeking,  temporizing 
iiypocrite  can  do  any  thing ;  and  yet  he  obeyeth  not,  while  he 
seemeth  to  obey  ;  for  it  is  not  for  the  authority  of  the  commander 


GONVIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  o45 

that  he  dotli  it,  but  for  his  own  ends.  He  never  truly  lionoreth  iiis 
superiors ;  for  he  doth  not  respect  them  as  the  officers  of  God,  nor 
obey  them  for  his  sake  whh  a  conscionable  obedience.  He  fear- 
eth  the  higher  powers  as  bears  or  tigers,  that  are  able  to  hurt  him  ; 
or  useth  their  favor  as  he  useth  his  horse,  to  do  him  service. 
Were  it  not  for  himself,  he  would  little  regard  them.  The  true 
Christian  honoreth  the  basest  creature  more  than. the  hypocrite  and 
worldling  honoreth  his  king;  for  he  seeth  God  in  all,  and  useth  the 
smallest  things  unto  his  glory  ;  whereas  the  W'orldling  debaseth  the 
highest,  by  the  baseness  of  his  esteem,  and  use,  and  end  ;  for  he 
Icnoweth  not  how  to  esteem  or  use  the  greatest  prince,  but  for  him- 
self or  for  some  worldly  ends;  12  Tim.  iii.  3,  4. 

XLIX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  a  man  of  courage  and  fortitude 
in  every -cause  of  God  ;  for  he  trusteth  God,  and  (irmly  believeth 
that  he  will  bear  him  out.  He  knoweth  his  superiors,  and  hath  a 
charitable  respect  to  all  men  :  but  as  for  any  selfish  or  timorous 
respect,  he  hath  the  least  regard  to  man.  For  he  knoweth  that 
the  greatest  are  but  worms,  whose  breath  is  in  their  nostrils,  that 
pass  away  as  shadows,  and  return  to  dust ;  and  that  the  most  po- 
tent are  impotent  when  they  contend  with  God,  and  are  unequal 
matches  to  strive  against  their  Maker ;  and  that  it  will  prove  hard 
for  them  to  kick  against  the  pricks  ;  and  that  whoever  seemeth  now 
to  have  the  day,  it  is  God  that  will  be  conqueror  at  last.  Job  xxv. 
6.  xvii.  14.  xxiv.  20.  Psal.  Ixxix.  31.  ciii.  16.  cxliv.  3 — 5. 
Acts  ix.  4 — 6.  "  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes,  nor  in  the  son  of 
man,  in  whom  there  is  no  help  ;  his  breath  goeth  forth  ;  he  retum- 
eth  to  his  earth ;  in  that  very  day  his  thoughts  perish.  Happy  is 
he  that  hath  the  God  of  Jacob  for  his  help;  whose  hope  is  in  the 
Liord  his  God."  "Woe  to  him  that  striveth  with  his  Maker;" 
Isa.  xlv.  9.  He  knoweth  that  it  is  more  irrational  to  fear  man 
against  God,  than  to  fear  a  flea  or  a  fly  against  the  greatest  man. 
The  infinite  disproportion  between  the  creature  that  is  against  him, 
and  the  Creator  that  is  for  him,  doth  resolve  him  to  obey  the  com- 
mand of  Christ ;  "  Be  not  afraid  of  them  that  kill  the  body,  and 
after  that  have  no  more  that  they  can  do :  but  1  will  forewarn  you 
whom  you  shall  fear :  fear  him,  which,  after  he  hath  killed,  hath 
power  to  cast  into  hell :  yea,  I  say  unto  you,  fear  him  ;  "  Luke  xii. 
4.  "  Hearken  unto  me,  ye  that  know  righteousness,  the  people  in 
whose  heart  is  my  law;  fear  ye  not  the  reproof  of  man,  neither  be 
afraid  of  their  revilings.  For  the  moth  shall  eat  them  up  like  a  gar- 
ment, and  the  worm  shall  eat  them  like  wool  ;  but  my  righteous- 
ness shall  be  forever,  and  my  salvation  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion ; "  Isa.  Ivii.  7,  8.  "  I  gave  my  back  to  the  smiters,  and  my 
cheeks  to  them  that  plucked  off  the  hair.  I  hid  not  my  face  from 
shame  and  spitting.  For  the  Lord  God  will  help  me  ;  therefore 
VOL.  1.  69 


546  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

shall  I  not  be  confounded ;  therefore  have  I  set  my  face  like  a  flint ; 
and  I  know  that  I  shall  not  be  ashamed.  He  is  near  that  justifieth 
me  :  who  will  contend  with  me  ?  Let  us  stand  together  :  who  is 
mine  adversary  ?  let  him  come  near  to  me.  Behold,  the  Lord 
God  will  help  me  :  Who  is  he  that  shall  condemn  me  ?  Lo  ! 
they  all  shall  wax  old  as  a  garment ;  the  moth  shall  eat  them  up  ;  " 
Isa.  1.  6—9.  xx%v.  4.  xli.  10.  13,  14.  vii.  4.  Jer.  xlvi.  27,  28. 
Matt.  X.  26.  31.  "Cease  ye  fi-om  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his 
nostrils ;  for  wherein  is  he  to  be  accounted  of?  "  Isa.  ii.  22.  "  Curs- 
ed be  the  man  that  trusteth  in  man,  he.  Blessed  is  the  man  that 
trusteth  in  the  Lord,"  &c.  Jer.  xvii.  5.  8,  9.  Alas,  how  terrible 
is  the  wrath  of  God,  in  comparison  of  the  WTath  of  man  !  And 
how  easy  an  enemy  is  the  crudest  afflicter,  in  comparison  of  a 
holy,  sin-revenging  God  I  Therefore  the  confirmed  Christian  saith, 
as  the  three  witnesses,  (Dan.  iii.  16 — 18.)  "  We  are  not  careful 
to  answer  thee  in  this  matter :  the  God  whom  we  serve  is  able 
to  deliver  us.  But  if  not,  be  it  known  unto  thee,  O  king,  that  we 
will  not  serve  thy  gods,  nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou 
hast  set  up."  When  Daniel  knew  that  the  decree  was  past,  he 
prayed  openly  in  his  house,  as  heretofore;  Dan.  vi.  10.  Moses 
"  feared  not  the  wrath  of  the  king ;  for  he  endured  as  seeing  him 
who  is  invisible;"  Heb.  xi.  27.  "The  righteous  are  bold  as  a 
lion;"  Prov.  xxviii.  1.  "When  they  saw  the  boldness  of  Petei 
and  John,  they  marveled ;  "  Acts  iv.  13.  Paul's  bonds  made 
others  bold;  2  Cor.  xi.  21.  Ephes.  vi.  19,  20.  Acts  iv.  29. 
31.  "Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear;"  1  John  iv.  18.  "If  ye 
suffer  for  righteousness'  sake,  happy  are  ye ;  and  be  not  afraid  of 
their  terror,  neither  be  troubled  ;  "  1  Pet.  iii.  14.  "  So  that  we 
may  boldly  say.  The  Lord  is  my  helper,  I  will  not  fear  what  man 
shall  do  unto  me;"  Heb.xiii.  6. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  though  he  also  trust  in  God,  is  much 
more  fearful,  and  easily  daunted  and  discouraged;  and  ready  with 
Peter  to  be  afraid,  if  he  perceive  himself  in  danger ;  Matt.  xxvi. 
69.  He  is  not  "  valiant  for  the  tnith  ;"  Jer.  ix.  3.  Though  he 
can  forsake  all  (even  life  itself)  for  Christ,  (Luke  xiv.  26.  33.)  yet 
it  is  with  a  deal  of  fear  and  trouble.  And  man  is  a  more  signifi- 
cant thing  to  him  than  to  the  stronger  Christian. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  doth  fear  man  more  than  God,  and 
will  venture  upon  the  displeasure  of  God,  to  avoid  the  displeasure 
of  men  that  can  do  him  hurt;  because  he  doth  not  soundly  believe 
the  threatenings  of  the  word  of  God. 

L.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  made  up  of  judgment  and  zeal  con- 
junct. His  judgment  is  not  a  patron  of  lukewarmness,  nor  his  zeal 
an  enemy  to  knowledge.  His  judgment  doth  not  destroy,  but  increase 
liis  zeal :   and  his  zeal  is  not  blind  nor  self-conceited,  nor  doth  run 


CONKIIIMEI)    CHRISTIAN.  547 

before  or  without  judgment.  If  he  be  of  the  most  excellent  sort  of 
Christians,  he  hath  so  large  a  knowledge  of  the  mysteries  of  godli- 
ness, that  he  seeth  the  body  of  sacred  truth  with  its  parts,  and 
compa'ges,  or  joints,  as  it  were  at  once.  It  is  all  written  deeply 
and  methodically  in  his  understanding  :  he  hath  by  long  use  his 
senses  exercised,  to  discern  both  good  and  evil ;  Heb.  v.  14.  He 
presently  discerneth  where  mistaken  men  go  out  of  the  way,  and 
lose  the  truth  by  false  suppositions,  or  by  false  definitions,  or  by 
confounding  things  that  diffqr.  And  therefore  he  pitieth  the  con- 
tentious sects  and  disputers,  who  raise  a  dust  to  blind  themselves 
and  others,  and  make  a  stir,  to  the  trouble  of  the  church,  about 
things  which  they  never  understood  ;  and  in  the  sight  of  that  truth 
which  others  obscure  and  contradict,  he  enjoyeth  much  content  or 
pleasure  in  his  own  mind,  though  incapable  persons  zealously  re- 
ject it.  Therefore  he  is  steadfast,  as  knowing  on  what  ground  he 
setteth  his  foot.  And  though  he  be  the  greatest  lover  of  truth,  and 
would  with  greatest  joy  receive  any  addition  to  his  knowledge,  yet 
ordinarily  by  erroneous  zealots  he  is  censured  as  too  stiff  and  self- 
conceited,  and  tenacious  of  his  own  opinions,  because  he  will  not 
entertain  their  errors,  and  obey  them  in  their  self-conceitedness. 
For  he  that  knoweth  that  it  is  a  truth  which  he  holdeth,  is  neither 
able  nor  willing  to  hold  the  contrary,  (unless  he  imprison  the  truth 
in  unrighteousness.)  But  if  he  be  one  that  hath  not  attained  to 
such  a  clear,  comprehensive  judgment,  yet  with  that  measure  of 
judgment  which  he  hath,  he  doth  guide  and  regulate  his  zeal,  and 
maketh  it  follow  after,  while  understanding  goeth  before.  He 
treadeth  on  sure  ground,  and  knoweth  it  to  be  duty  indeed  which 
he  is  zealous  for,  and  sin  indeed  which  he  is  zealous  against ;  and 
is  not  put  to  excuse  all  his  favor  and  forwardness  after,  with  a 
'  Non  putarem,'  or,  '  I  had  thought  it  had  been  otherwise  ;  "  1  Cor. 
i.  5.     2  Cor.  viii.  7.     Col.  iii.  Tg.     iv.  12. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  either  hearkeneth  too  much  to  carnal 
wisdom,  which  suppresseth  his  zeal,  and  maketh  him  too  heavy 
and  dull,  and  indifferent  in  many  of  his  duties,  and  the  concern- 
ments of  his  soul,  permitting  the  world  to  take  up  too  much  of  the 
vigor  of  his  spirit ;  or  else  he  is  confident  in  his  mistakes,  and  verily 
thinks  that  he  understandeth,  better  than  many  wiser  men,  those 
things  which  he  never  understood  at  all.  He  chooseth  his  party 
by  the  zeal  that  he  findeth  in  them,  without  any  judicious  trial  of 
the  truth  of  what  they  hold  and  teach.  He  is  very  earnest  for 
many  a  supposed  truth  and  duty,  which  proveth  at  last  to  be  no 
truth  or  duty  at  all ;  and  he  censureth  many  a  wiser  Cin'istian 
than  himself,  for  many  a  supposed  sin,  which  is  no  sin,  but  per- 
haps a  duty.  For  he  is  always  injudicious,  and  his  heat  is  greater 
than  his  light,  or  else  his  light  is  too  flashy  without  heat.    Peremp- 


4 

4 

51;?  CHAUACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

lorily  he  dulh  set  down  some  among  the  number  of  the  most  wise 
and  excellent  men,  for  keeping  him  company  in  his  mistakes ;  and 
he  boldly  numbereth  the  best  and  wisest  of  his  teachers  with  the 
transgressors,  for  being  of  a  sounder  understanding  than  himself, 
and  doing  those  duties  which  he  calleth  sins.  And  hence  it  is  that 
he  is  a  person  apt  to  be  misled  by  appearances  of  zeal ;  and  the 
passions  of  his  teachers  prevail  more  with  him  than  the  evidence 
of  tmth.  He  that  prayeth  and  preacheth  most  fervently  is  the 
man  that  carrieth  him  away,  though  none  of  his  arguments  should 
be  truly  cogent.  If  he  hear  any  hard  name  against  any  opinion, 
or  manner  of  worship,  he  receiveth  that  prejudice  which  turneth 
him  more  against  it  than  reason  could  have  done.  So  the  bugbear 
names  of  Heresy,  Lutheranism,  and  Calvinism,  frighteneth  many 
a  well-meaning  Papist  both  from  the  truth,  and  almost  from  his 
wits.  And  the  names  of  Popery,  Arminianism,  Prelacy,  Presby- 
terianism,  Independency,  &ic.,  do  turn  away  iA\e  hearts  of  many 
from  things  which  they  never  tried  or  understood.  If  a  zeal- 
ous preacher  do  but  call  any  opinion  or  practice  antichristian  or 
idolatrous,  it  is  a  more  efiectual  terror  than  the  clearest  proof 
Big  and  terrible  words  do  move  the  passions,  while  the  understand- 
ing is  abused,  or  a  stranger  to  the  cause.  And  passion  is  much  of 
their  religion.  And  hence,  alas!  is  much  of  the  calamity  of  the 
church;  Rom.  xiv.  1 — 4,  &c.  1  Cor.  iii.  1 — 4.  Acts  xxi.  20. 
Gal.  iv.  17,  18. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  only  zealous  finally  for  himself, 
or  zealous  about  the  smaller  matters  of  religion,  as  the  Pharisees 
were  for  their  ceremonies  and  traditions,  or  for  his  own  inventions, 
or  some  opinions  or  ways,  in  which  his  honor  seemeth  to  be  inter- 
ested, and  pride  is  the  bellows  of  his  zeal.  But  as  for  a  holy  zeal 
about  the  substance  and  practice,  of  religion,  and  that  for  God  as 
the  final  cause,  he  is  a  stranger  to  it.  He  may  have  a  zeal  of  God, 
and  of  and  for  the  law  and  worship  of  God  as  the  material  cause, 
but  not  a  true  zeal  for  God,  as  the  chief,  final  cause ;  Rom.  x.  2. 
2  Sam.  xxi.  2.     2  Kings  x.  16.     Acts  xxii.  3. 

LI.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  can  bear  the  infirmities  of  the  weak  : 
though  he  love  not  their  v/eakness,  yet  he  pitieth  it,  because  he 
truly  loveth  their  persons.  Christ  hath  taught  him  not  to  break 
the  bruised  reed,  and  to  "  gather  the  lambs  in  his  arms,  and  carry 
them  in  his  bosom,  and  gently  lead  those  that  are  with  young  ;"  Isa. 
xl.  11.  xlii.  3.  If  they  have  diseases  and  distempers,  he  seeketh 
in  tenderness  to  cure  them,  and  not  in  wrath  to  hurt  or  vex  them. 
He  turneth  not  the  infants  or  sick  persons  from  the  family,  because 
they  cry,  or  are  unquiet,  unclean,  infirm  and  troublesome  ;  but  he 
exerciseth  his  love  and  pity  upon  their  wcalaiesses.  If  they  mis- 
take their  way,  or  are  ignorant,  and  peevish,  and  froward  in  their 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIA!*? .  519 

mistakes,  he  seeketh  not  to  undo  them,  but  gently  to  reduce  them. 
If  they  censure  him,  and  call  him  erroneous,  heretical,  antichristian, 
idolatrous,  because  he  concurreth  not  with  them  in  their  mistakes, 
he  beareth  it  with  love  and  patience,  as  he  would  do  the  peevish 
chidings  of  a  child,  or  the  frowardness  of  the  sick.  He  doth  not 
lose  his  charity,  and  set  his  wit  against  a  child,  and  aggravate  the 
crimes,  and,  being  reviled,  revile  again  ;  and  say,  '  You  are  schis- 
matics, hypocrites,  obstinate,  and  fit  to  be  severely  dealt  w'ith.'  But 
he  overcometh  them  with  love  and  patience,  which  is  the  conquest 
of  a  saint,  and  the  happiest  victory  both  for  himself  and  them.  It 
is  a  "  small  matter  to  him  to  be  judged  of  man  ; "  1  Cor.  iv.  3,  4. 
He  is  more  troubled  for  the  weakness  and  disease  of  the  censori- 
ous, than  for  his  own  being  wronged  by  their  censures ;  Phil.  i. 
16—18.     Rom.  XV.  1—3.     xiv.  2,  3. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  is  more  ready  to  censure  others,  than 
patiently  to  bear  a  Censure  himself.  Either  he  stormeth  against 
the  censurers,  as  if  they  did  him  some  unsufFerable  wrong,  (through 
the  over-great  esteem  of  himself  and  his  reputation,)  or  else  to  es- 
cape the  fangs  of  censure,  and  keep  up  his  repute  with  them,  he 
complieth  with  the  censorious,  and  overruns  his  judgment  and  con- 
science to  be  w^ell  spoken  of  and  counted  a  sincere  and  steadfast 
man;  Gal.  ii.  12 — 14. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  so  proud  and  selfish,  and  want- 
cth  charity  and  tenderness  to  the  weak,  that  he  is  impatient  of 
their  provocations ;  and  would  cure  the  diseases  of  the  servants  of 
Christ,  by  cutting  their  throats,  or  ridding  the  country  of  them.  If 
a  child  do  but  wrangle  wath  him,  he  crieth,  '  Aw^ay  with  him  ;  he 
is  a  troubler  of  the  world.'.  He  taketh  more  notice  of  one  of  their 
infirmities,  than  of  all  their  graces-;  yea,  he  can  see  nothing  but 
obstinacy  and  hypocrisy  in  them,  if  they  do  hut  cross  him  in  his 
opinions,  or  reputation,  or  worldly  ends.  Selfishness  can  turn  his 
hypocrisy  into  malignity  and  cruelty,  if  once  he  take  them  to  be 
against  his  interest.  Indeed,  his  interest  can  make  him  patient  : 
he  can  bear  with  them  that  he  looketh  to  gain  by,  but  not  with 
them  that  seem  to  be  against  him.  The  radical  enmity  against 
sincerity,  that  was  not  mortified,  but  covered  in  his  heart,  will  easily 
be  again  uncovered;  Mark  vi.  18.  20 — 22.  Phil.  i.  15,  16.  3 
John  9. 

LII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  a  great  esteemer  of  the  unity  of 
the  church,  and  greatly  averse  to  "all  divisions  among  believers.* 
As  there  is  in  the  natural  body  an  abhorring  of  dismembering  or 
separating  any  part  from  the  whole,,  so  there  is  in  the  mystical 
body  of  Christ.  The  members  that  have  life,  cannot  but  feel  the 
smart  of  any  distempering  attempt ;  for  abscission  is  destruction  ; 
the  members  die  that  are  separated  from  the  body.      And  if  there 


550  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

be  but  any  obstruction  or  hinderance  of  communion,  they  will  be 
painful  or  unuseful.  He  feeleth  in  himself  the  reason  of  all  those 
strict  commands  and  earnest  exhortations :  "  Now  1  beseech  you, 
brethren,  by  the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  ye  all  speak 
the  same  thing,  and  that  there  be  no  divisions  among  you,  but  that 
you  be  perfectly  joined  together  in  the  same  mind,  and  in  the  same 
judgment ;  "  1  Cor.  i.  10.  "  If  there  be  any  consolation  in  Christ, 
if  any  comfort  of  love,  if  any  fellowship  of  the  Spirit,  if  any  bowels 
and  mercies,  fulfill  ye  my  joy,  that  ye  be  like  minded,  having  the 
same  love,  being  of  one  accord,  of  one  mind.  Let  nothing  be  done 
through  strife  or  vain-glory ;  but  in  lowliness  of  rainfl,  let  each  es- 
teem other  better  than  themselves.  Look  not  every  man  on  his 
own  things,  but  every  man  also  on  the  things  of  others;"  Phil.  ii. 
1 — 4.  "  1,  therefore,  the  prisoner  of  the  Lord,  beseech  you,  that 
ye  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are  called,  with  all 
lowliness  and  meekness,  with  long-suffering,  forbearing  one  another 
in  love  ;  endeavoring  to  keep  the  unity  of  the  Spirit  in  the  bond 
of  peace.  There  is  one  body  and  one  Spirit,  even  as  ye  are  called 
in  one  hope  of  your  calling ;  one  Lord,  one  faith,  one  baptism,  one 
God  and  Father  of  all,  who  is  above  all,  and  through  all,  and  in 
you  all.  But  unto  every  one  of  us  is  given  grace,  according  to  the 
measure  of  the  gift  of  Christ ;  "  Ephes.  iv.  2 — 7.  Read  also  chap. 
iv.  12 — 16.  1  Cor.  xii.  throughout.  He  looketh  at  uncharitable- 
ness,  and  divisions,  with  more  abhorrence  than  weak  Christians  do 
at  drunkenness  or  whoredom,  or  such  other  heinous  sin.  He  fear- 
eth  such  dreadful  warnings  as  Acts  xx.  29,  30.  ''  For  I  know 
this,  that,  after  my  departing,  shall  grievous  wolves  enter  in  among 
you,  not  sparing  the  flock.  Also  of  your  own  selves  shall  men 
arise,  speaking  perverse  things  io  drawWay  disciples  after  them." 
And  he  cannot  shght  such  a  vehement  exhortation  as  Rom.  xvi. 
17,  18.  "Now  1  beseech  you,  brethren,  mark  them  which  cause 
divisions  and  offences,  contrary  to  the  doctrine  which  ye  have 
learned,  and  avoid  them.  For  they  that  are  such  serve  not  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  but  their  own  belly,  and  by  good  words,  and 
fair  speeches,  deceive  the  hearts  of  the  simple."  Tlierefore  he  is 
so  far  from  being  a  divider  himself,  that  when  he  seeth  any  one 
making  divisions  among  Christians,  he  looketh  on  him  as  one  that 
is  slashing  and  mangling  the  body  of  his  dearest  friend,  or  as  one 
that  is  setting  fire  on  his  house,  and  therefore  doth  all  that  he  can 
.to  quench  it;  as  knowing  the  confusion  and  calamity  to  which  it 
tendeth.  He  is  of  a  Christian,  and  therefore  of  a  truly  catholic 
spirit :  that  is,  he  maketh  not  himself  a  member  of  a  divided  party, 
or  a  sect :  he  regardelh  the  interest  and  welfare  of  the  body,  the 
imiversal  church,  above  the  interest  or  prosperity  of  any^  party 
^vhatsoever ;  and  he  will  do  nothing  for  a  party  which  is  injurious 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  551 

to  the  whole,  or  to  the  Christian  cause.  The  very  names  of  sects 
and  parties  are  displeasing  to  him ;  and  he  could  wish  that  there 
were  no  name  but  that  of  Christians  among  us,  save  only  the  ne- 
cessary names  of  the  criminal,  (such  as  that  of  the  Nicolaitans; 
Rev.  ii.  6.  15.)  by  which  those  that  are  to  be  avoided  by  Chris- 
tians must  be  known.  Christianity  is  confined  to  so  narrow  a  com- 
pass in  the  world,  that  he  is  unwilling  to  contract  it  yet  into  a  nar- 
rower. The  greatest  party  of  divided  Christians,  whether  it  be 
the  Greeks  or  Papists,  is  too  small  a  body  for  him  to  take  for  the 
catholic,  or  universal  church.  He  admireth  at  the  blindness  and 
cruelty  of  faction,  that  can  make  men  damn  all  the  rest  of  the 
church  for  the  interest  of  their  proper  sect ;  and  take  all  those  as 
no  Christians  that  are  better  Christians  than  themselves.  Espe- 
cially the  Papists,  who  unchurch  all  the  church  of  Christ,  except 
their  sect,  and  make  it  as  necessary  to  salvation  to  be  a  subject  of 
the  pope,  as  to  be  a  Christian.  And  when,  by  their  great  cor- 
ruption and  abuses  of  Christianity,  they  have  more  need  of  char- 
itable censures  themselves  than  almost  any  sort  of  Christians,  yet 
are  they  the  boldest  condemners  of  all  others.  The  confirmed 
Christian  can  difference  between  the  strong  and  weak,  the  sound 
and  unsound  members  of  the  church,  without  dismembering  any,, 
and  without  unwarrantable  separation  from  any.  He  will  worship 
God  in  the  purest  manner  he  can,  and  locally  join  with  those  as- 
semblies, where,  all  things  considered,  he  may  most  honor  God, 
and  receive  most  edification ;  and  will  not  sin,  for  communion  with 
any.  He  will  sufficiently  difference  between  a  holy,  orderly  as- 
sembly, and  a  corrupt,  disordered  one ;  and  between  an  able, 
faithful  pastor,  and  an  ignorant  or  worldly  hireling.  And  he  de- 
sireththat  the  pastors  of  the  church  may  make  that  due  separation, 
by  the  holy  discipline  of  Christ,  which  may  prevent  the  people's 
disorderly  separation.  But  for  all  this,  he  will  not  deny  his  pres- 
ence, upon  just  occasion,  to  any  Christian  congregation  that  wor- 
shipeth  God  in  truth,  though  with  many  modal  imperfections,  so  be 
it  they  impose  no  sin  upon  him  as  necessary  to  his  communion 
with  him.  Nor  will  he  deny  the  spiritual  communion  of  faith  and 
love  to  those  that  he  holdeth  not  local  communion  with.  He 
knows  that  all  our  worship  of  God  is  sinfully  imperfect,  and  that  it 
is  a  dividing  principle  to  hold,  that  we  may  join  with  none  that 
worship  God  in  a  faulty  manner ;  for  then  we  must  join  with  none 
on  earth.  He  knoweth  that  his  presence  in  the  worship  of  God 
is  no  sign  of  his  approbation  of  all  the  failings  of  pastors  or  people, 
in  their  personal  or  modal  imperfections,  as  long  as  he  joineth  not 
in  a  worship  so  corrupt  as  to  be  itself  un^ceptable  to  God.  While 
men,  who  are  all  imperfect  and  corrupt,  are  the  worshipers,  the 
manner  of  their  worship  will  bo  such  as  they,  in  some  degree  im- 


552  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

jierfect  and  corrupt.     The  solid  Christian  hath  his  eye  upon  all 
tlie  churches  in  the  world,  in  the  determining  of  such  questions ; 
he  considereth  what  worship  is  offered  to  God  in  the  churches  of 
the  several  parties  of  Christians,  the  Greeks,  Armenians,  Abassines. 
Lutherans,  &c.,  as  well  as  what  is  done  in  the  country  where  he 
liveth ;  and  he  considereth  whether  God  disown  and  reject  the 
worship  of  almost  all  the  churches  in  the  world,  or  not;  for  he 
dare  no  further  reject  them  than  God  rejecteth  them.     Nor  will 
he  voluntarily  separate  from  those  assemblies  where  the  presence 
of  Christ,  in  his  Spirit  and  acceptance,  yet  remaineth.     And  his 
fuller  acquaintance  with  the  gracious  nature,  office,  and  tenderness 
of  Christ,  together  with  greater  love  to  his  brethren,  doth  cause 
him  in  this  to  judge  more  gently  than  young  censorious  Christians 
do.     And  his  humble  acquaintance  with  his  own  infirmities  maketh 
him  the  more  compassionate  to  others.     If  he  should  think  that 
God  would  reject  all  that  order  not   and  word  not  their  prayers 
aright,  he  would  be  afraid  of  being  rejected  himself,  who  is  still 
conscious  of  greater  faultiness  in  his  own  prayers,  than  a  mere  de- 
fect in  words  and  order ;  even  of  a  great  defectiveness  in  that  faith, 
and  desire,  and  love,  and  zeal,  and  reverence,  which  should  be 
manifested  in  prayer.     Though  he  be  more  apprehensive  than 
others  of  the  excellency  and  necessity  of  the  holiness  and  spirit- 
uality of  the  soul  in  worship,  yet,  withal,  he  is  more  judicious  and 
charitable  than  the  peevish  and  passionate  infant  Christians,  who 
think  that  God  doth  judge  as  they  do,  and  seeth  no  grace  where 
they  see  none ;  and  taketh  all  to  be  superstitious  or  fanatical,  that 
differ  from  their  opinions  or  manner  of  worship ;  or  that  he  is  as 
ready  to  call  every  error,  in  the  method  or  the  words  of  prayer,  idol- 
atry, or  will-worship,  as  those  are  that  speak  not  what  they  know, 
but  what  they  have  heard  some  teachers,  whom  they  reverence, 
say  before  them.     "  He  that  dwelleth  in  love,  doth  dwell  in  God, 
and  God  in  hun."     And  he  that  dwelleth  in  God,  is  liker  to  be 
best  acquainted  with  his  mind,  concerning  his  children  and  his  wor- 
ship, than  he  that  dwelleth  in  wrath,  and  pride,  and  partiality. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian,  (though,  so  far  as  he  hath  grace,  he 
is  of  the  same  mind,  and  abhorreth  discord  and  division  among  the 
flock  of  Christ,  yet,)  being  more  dark,  and  selfish,  and  distempered, 
he  is  much  more  prone  to  unwarrantable  separations  and  divisions 
than  the  stronger  Christian  is.  He  is  narrower  sighted,  and  look- 
eth  little  further  than  his  own  acquaintance,  and  the  country  where 
he  liveth,  and  mindeth  not  sufficiently  the  general  state  of  the 
churches  through  the  world,  nor  understan^eth  well  the  interest 
of  Christ  and  Christianity  in  the  earth.  His  knowledge  and  ex- 
perience being  small,  his '^charity  also  is  but  small;  and  a  little 
thing  tempteth  him  to  condemn  another,  and  aggravate  his  faults. 


CONFIHMKD    CHRISTIAN.  553 

and  think  him  unwortiiy  of  liie  communion  of  tlie  saints.     He  is 
much  more  sensible  of  the  judgment,  and  affections,  and  concern- 
ments of  those  few  witli  whom  he  doth  converse,  and  that  are  of 
his  opinion,  than  of  tiie  judgiiient,  and  practice,  and  concernments 
of  the  universal  churcli.     He  knoweth  not  how  to  prefer  the  judg- 
ments and  holiness  of  some  that  he  thinketh  more  excellent  than 
the  rest,  without  much  undervaluing  and  censuring  of  all  others 
that  are  not  of  their  opinion ;  he  cannot  choose  the  actual  local 
communion  of  the  best  society,  without  some  unjust  contempt  of 
others,  or  separation  from  them.     He  hath  not  so-  much  knowl- 
edge as  may  sudiciently  acquaint  him  with  his  ignorance  ;  and 
therefore  he  is  apt  to  be  unreasonably  confident  of  his  present  ap- 
prehensions, and  to  think  verily  that  all  his  own  conceptions  are 
the  certain  truth ;  and  to  think  them  ignorant,  or  ungodly,  or  very 
weak,  at  least,  that  differ  from  him.     For  he  hath  not  thoroughly 
and  impartially  studied  all  that  maybe  said. on. the  other  side. 
The  authority  of  his  chosen  teacher  and  sect,  is  greater  with  him 
(if  he  fall  into  that  way)  than  the  authority  of  all  the  most  wise  and 
holy  persons  in  the  world  besides.     What  the  Scripture  speaketh 
of  the  unbelieving  world,  he  is  apt  to  apply  to  all  those  of  the 
church  of  Christ,  that  are  not  of  his  mind  and  party.     And  when 
Christ  commandeth  us  to  come  out  of  the  world,  he  is  prone  to 
understand  it  of  coming  out  from  the  chiu'ch  into  some  stricter  and 
narrower  society ;  and  is  apt,  with  the  Papists,  to  appropriate  the 
name  and  privileges  of  tlie  church  to  his  party  alone,  and  to  con- 
demn all  otliQi's.     Especially  if  the  church-governors  be  carnal  and 
self-seeking,  or  otherwise  very  culpable;  and  if  discipline  be  neg- 
lected, and  if  p'rofaneness  be  not  sufficiently  discountenanced,  and 
godliness  promoted,  he  thinketh  that  such  a  church  is  no  church, 
but  a  profane  society.     God  hath  taught  him,  by  repentance,  to  see 
the  mischief  of  ungodliness ;  but  he  yet  wanteth  that  experience 
which  is  needfid  to  make  him  know  the  mischief  of  church  divis- 
ions.    He  had  too  much  experience  himself  of  the  evil  of  pro- 
faneness,  before  his  conversion  ;  but  he  hath  nut  tried  the  evil  of 
schism  ;  and  without  some  sad  experience  of  its  fruits,  in  himself 
or  others,  he  will  hardly  know  it  as  it  should  be  known  ;  because 
it  is  the  custom  of  some  malignant  enemies  of  godliness,  to  call  the 
godly  heretics,  schismatics,  factious  sectaries,  &;c. ;  therefore  the 
very  names  do  come  into  credit  with  him  ;  and  he  thinks  thei'e  are 
no  such  persons  in  the  world,  or  that  there  is  no  danger  of  any 
such  crimes,  till  he  be  taught,  by  sad  experience,  that  the  profes- 
sors of  sincerity  are  in  as  much  danger  on  that  side  as  on  the  other; 
and  that  the  church,  as  well  as  Clirist,'  doth  suflbr  between  two 
ihieves,  the  profane  and  the  dividers.     Paul  was  unjustly  called 
the  ringleader  of  a  sect,  (Acts  xxiv.  5.)  and  Christianity  culied  a 
VOL.  I.  70 


554  CHARACTER.    OF    A    SOUND, 

heresy  and  a  sect,  every  where  spoken  against ;  Acts  xxviii.  22, 
xxiv.  14.  But  for  all  that,  heresy  is  a  fruit  of  the  flesh,  (Gal.  v. 
20.)  and  some  of  them  called  damnable;  (2  Pet.  ii.  1.)  and  they 
are  the  trial  of  the  church,  to  difference  the  approved  members 
from  the  chaff;  1  Cor.  xi.  19.  And  an  obstinate  heretic  is  to  be 
avoided  by  true  believers ;  Titus  iii.  10.  And  the  Pharisees  and 
Sadducees  are  well  reputed  to  be  several  sects ;  Acts  v.  17.  xv. 
5.  xxvi.  5.  And  dividers  and  divisions  are  justly  branded,  as  afore- 
said. There  must  be  no  schism  in  the  body  of  Christ ;  1  Cor.  xii. 
25.  The  following  of  selected  teachers,  in  a  way  of  division  from 
t!ie  rest,  or  opposhion  to  them,  doth  show  that  men  are  carnal  in. 
too  great  a  measure,  though  it  be  not  in  predominancy,  as  in  the 
prolane.  '■'  And  I,  brethren,  could  not  speak  unto  you  as  unto 
spiritual,  but  as  unto  carnal,  as  unto  babes  in  Christ.  I  have  fed 
you  with  milk,  and  not  with  meat ;  for  hitherto  ye  were  not  able 
to  bear  it,  neither  yet  now  are  ye  able,  for  ye  are  yet  carnal.  For 
whereas  there  is  among  you  envying,  and  strife,  and  divisions,  are 
ye  not  carnal,  and  walk  as  men?  For  while  one  saith,  I  am  of 
Paul,  and  another,  I  am  of  ApoUos,  are  ye  not  carnal?"  2  Cor. 
iii.  1 — 3.  How  much  more  when  he  that  is  for  Paul  doth  censure 
and  rail  at  Cephas  and  Apollos !  He  that  hath  seen  the  course 
of  men  professing  godliness  in  England  in  this  age,  may  easily  and 
sadly  know  how  prone  weak  Christians  are  to  unjust  separations 
and  divisions,  and  vvhat  are  the  effects.  He  that  had  heard  many 
zealous  in  prayer,  and  other  duties,  and  the  next  year  see  them 
turning  Quakers,  and  railing  in  the  open  congregation^  at  the  most 
able,  holy,  self-denying  ministers  of  Christ,  and  at  their  flocks,  with 
a  'Come  down,  thou  deceiver,  thou  hireling,  thoif  wolf;  ye  are 
all  greedy  dogs,'  &c.,  and  shall  see  how  yet  poor  souls  run  into 
that  reviling  and  irrational  sect,  (to  say  nothing  of  all  other  sects 
among  us,)  will  no  longer  doubt  whether  the  weak  be  inclined  to 
schism,  but  will  rather  lament  the  dangerousness  of  their  station, 
and  know  that  all  is  not  done  when  a  sinner  is  converted  from  an 
ungodly  state.  Study  the  reason  of  those  three  texts ;  Ephes.  iv. 
I'S — 16.  "  For  the  edifying  the  body  of  Christ,  till  we  all  come, 
in  the  unity  of  the  faith,  and  of  the  knowledge  of  the  Son  of  God, 
unto  a  perfect  man,  and  the  measure  of  the  stature  of  the  fullness 
of  Christ;  so  that  we  henceforth  be  no  more  children,  tossed  to 
and  fro,  and  carried  about  with  every  wind  of  doctrine,  by  the. 
sleight  of  men,  and  cunning  craftiness  whereby  they  lie  in  wait  to 
deceive  ;  but  speaJcing  the  truth  in  love,  may  grow  up  into  him  in 
all  things,  which  is  the  head,  even  Christ ;  from  whom  the  whole 
body,  fitly  joined  together  and  compacted,  by  that  which  every 
joint  supplieth  according  to  the  effectual  working  in  the  measure 
of  every  ]iail,  maketh  increase  of  the  body,  to  the  edifying  of  itself 


j9t 
^ 


fON'Fl  IIMK !)    C  11 IIJ  S'!  1  A  N . 


in  love."  Here  you  see  the  children  are  apt  to  be  carried  liito  di- 
viding parties.  And  tiiat  they  are  more  apt  to  be  proud,  and  that 
way  to  miscarry,  see  1  Tim.  iii.  6.  "  Not  a  novice,  (cr  raw 
young  Christian,)  lest,  being  lifted  up  with  pride,  he  fall  into  the 
condemnation  of  the  devil ; "  and  then  followeth  the  efiect.  Acts 
XX.  30.  "  Also  of  your  own  selves  shall  men  arise,  speaking  p<2r- 
verse  things,  to  draw  away  disciples  after  them."  I  would  not 
have  you  groundlessly  accuse  any  Christian  with  a  charge  oi 
pride ;  but  I  must  tell  you  that  the  childish  pride  of  apparel  is  a 
petty  business,  in  comparison  of  that  pride  which  many  In  sordid 
attire  have  manifested,  who,  in  their  ignorance,  do  rage  and  loam 
out  words  of  falsehood  and  reproach  against  Christ's  ministers  and 
servants,  as  if  they  were  fools,  or  impious  in  comparison  of  them, 
speaking  evil  of  that  which  they  never  understood.  The  lifting  uji 
the  heart  above  the  people  of  the  'Lord,  in  the  pride  of  supposed 
holiness,  is  incomparably  worse  than  pride  of  learning,  honor,  great- 
ness, wit,  or  wealth.  Nay,  it  hath  often  been  to  me  a  matter  of 
wonder  to  observe  how  little  all  those  plain  and  urgent  texts  of 
Scripture,  which  cry  down  division,  do  work  upon  many  of  tlie 
younger  Christians,  who  yet  are  as  quickly  touched  as  any  with 
a  text  that  speaketh  against  profaneness  and  lukewarmness.  In 
a  word,  they  are  often  of  the  temper  of  James  and  John,  when 
they  would  fain  have  had  Christ  revenged  himself  on  his  opposers 
by  fire  from  heaven;  "They  know  not  what  manner  of  spirit  they 
are  of;"  Luke  ix.  55.  They  think  verily  that  it  Is  a  holy  zeal 
for  God,  when  It  is  the  boiling  of  passion,  pride,  and  selfishness. 
They  fed  not  the  sense  of  such  words  as  Christ's,  "  I  pray  also 
for  them  who  shall  believe  on  me,  through  their  word,  that  they  all 
may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they 
also  may  be  one  in  us,  that  the  world  may  believe  that  thou  hast 
sent  me ;"  &;c.     John  xvll.  20 — 24. 

3.  And  as  for  the  seeming  Christian,  In  this  they  are  of  several 
sorts.  When  their  carnal  Interest  lieth  in  compliance  with  tlie 
major  part  and  stronger  side,  then  no  men  do  more  cry  up  unity 
and  obedience.  What  a  noise  do  many  thousand  Papist  prelates, 
Jesuits  and  friars,  make  with  these  two  words  throughout  the 
world !  Unity  and  obedience  (unto  them,  upon  their  terms)  do 
signify  principally  their  worldly  greatness,  wealth,  and  power.  But 
if  the  hypocrite  be  engaged  In  point  of  honor,  or  other  carnal  in- 
terest, on  the  suffering  side,  or  be  out  of  hope  of  any  advantage, 
in  the  common  road,  tlien  no  man  Is  so  much  for  separation  and 
singularity  as  he.  For  he  must  needs  be  noted  for  somebody  In 
the  world,  and  this  is  the  chief  way  that  he  findeth  to  accomplish 
it.  And  so,  being  "  lifted  up  v.Ith  pride,  he  fallcth  Into  the  con- 
demnation of  the' devil,"  and  becomes  a  firebrand  in  the  church. 


55(i  CHARACTEK    OF    A    SOUND, 

LIIL  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  not  only  zealous  for  the  unity 
and  concord  of  believers,  but  he  seeketh  it  on  the  right  teiTns,  and 
in  the  way  that  is  fittest  to  attain  it.  Unity,  peace,  and  concord, 
are,  like  piety  and  honesty,  things  so  unquestionably  good,  that 
there  are  scarce  any  men  of  reason  and  common  sobriety,  that  ever 
were  heard  to  oppose  them  directly  and  for  themselves ;  and  there- 
fore all  that  are  enemies  to  them  are  yet  pretenders  to  them,  and 
oppose  them,  1,  In  their  causes  only.  2.  Or  covertly,  and  under 
some  other  name.  Every  man  would  have  unity,  concord,  and 
peace  in  his  own  way,  and  upon  his  own  terms.  But  if  the  right 
terms  had  been  understood  and  consented  to  as  sufficient,  the 
Christian  world  had  not  lain  so  many  hundred  years  in  the  sin,  and 
shame,  and  ruins,  as  it  hath  done.  And  the  cause  of  all  is,  that 
Christians  indeed,  that  have  clear,  confirmed  judgments,  and 
strength  of  grace,  are  very  few ;  and  for  number  and  strength,  un- 
able to  persuade  or  overrule  the  weak,  the  passionate,  and  the 
false-hearted,  worldly,  hypocritical  multitude,  who  bear  down  <all 
the  counsels  and  endeavors  of  the  wise. 

The  judicious,  faithful  Christian  knoweth  that  there  are  three 
degrees  or  sorts  of  Christian  communion,  which  have  their  several 
terms.  1.  The  universal  church  communion,  which  all  Chnstians, 
as  such,  must  hold  among  themselves.  2.  Particular  church  com- 
munion, which  those  that  are  conjoined  for  personal  communion  in 
worship,  do  hold  under  the  same  pastors  and  among  themselves. 
3.  The  extraordinary  intimate  communion  that  some  Christians 
hold  together,  who  are  bosom  friends,  or  are  especially  able  and 
fit  to  be  helpful  and  comfortable  to  each  other. 

The  last  concerneth  not  our  present  business ;  we  must  hold 
church  communion  with  many  that  are  unfit  to  be  our  bosom  friends, 
and  that  have  no  eminency  of  parts  or  piety,  or  any  strong  per- 
suading evidence  of  sincerity.  But  the  terms  of  catholic  com- 
munion he  knoweth  are  such  as  these.  1.  They  must  be  such  as 
were  the  terms  of  church  communion  in  the  days  of  the  apostles. 
2.  They  must  be  such  as  are  plainly  and  certainly  expressed  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures.  3.  And  such  as  the  universal  church  hath 
in  some  ages  since  been  actually  agreed  in.  4.  And  those  points 
are  most  likely  to  be  such,  which  all  the  differing  parties  of  Chris- 
tians are  agreed  in  as  necessary  to  communion,  to  this  day,  (so  we 
call  not  thqse  Christians  that  deny  the  essentials  of  Christianity.) 
5.  Every  man,  in  the  former  ages  of  the  church,  was  admitted  to 
this  catholic  church  communion,  who,  in  the  baptismal  vow  or 
covenant,  gave  up  himself  to  God  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  as  his  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier  ;  his  Owner,  Gov- 
ernor, and  Father,  renouncing  the  flesh,  the  world,  and  the  devil. 
And  more  particularly,  as  man  hath  an  understanding,  a  will,  and 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  557 

an  executive  power,  which  must  all  be  sanctified  to  God,  so  the 
creed  was  the  particular  rule  for  the  '  credenda,'  or  things  to  be 
believed,  and  the  Lord's  prayer  for  the  '  petenda,'  or  things  to  be 
willed,  loved,  and  desired,  and  the  ten  commandments  for  the 
'  agenda,'  or  things  to  be  done  ;  so  that  to  consent  to  these  rules 
particularly,  and  to  all  the  holy  scriptures  implicitly  and  generally, 
was  the  thing  then  required  to  catholic  communion.  The  belief 
of  the  doctrine  being  necessary  for  the  sanctifying  of  the  heart  and 
life,  the  belief  of  so  much  is  of  necessity,  Avithout  which  the- heart 
cannot  be  sanctified,  or  devoted  in  covenant  to  God,  our  Creator, 
Redeemer,  and  Regenerator;  and  without  which  we  cannot  love 
God  (as  reconciled  to  us  in  Christ)  above  all,  and  our  neighbors 
as  ourselves.  So  that,  iii  a  word,  he  that  can  tell  what  the  bap- 
tismal vow  or  covenant  is,  can  tell  what  is  necessary  to  that  catho- 
lic church  communion,  which  belongeth  to  Christians  as  Christians, 
at  hovvgreat  a  distance  soever  they  dwell  from  one  another. 

And  then  for  particular  church  communion,  which  is  local  and 
personal,  it  is  moreover  necessary,  1.  That  each  member  acknowl- 
edge and  submit  to  the  same  pastors.  2.  That  they  be  guid- 
ed by  them  in  the  convenient  circumstances  and  adjuncts  of  wor- 
ship. For,  if  some  persons  will  not  consent  or  submit  to  the  same 
pastors  that  the  body  of  the  church  consenteth  and  submitteth  to, 
they  cannot  have  communion  particularly  and  locally  with  that 
church,  nor  are  they  members  of  it,  no  more  than  they  can  be 
members  of  the  same  kingdom  that  have  not  the  same  king.  And 
there  being  no  solemn  worship  performed  but  by  the  ministry  of 
those  pastors,  they  cannot  join  in  the  worship  that  join  not  with 
the  minister.  And  if  some  members  will  not  consent  and  submit 
to  the  necessary  determination  of  the  adjuncts  or  external  modes 
of  worship,  they  cannot  join  in  local,  particular  church  communion 
where  that  worship  is  performed.  As  if  the  pastor  and  the  body 
of  the  church  will  meet  in  such  a  place,  at  such  a  day  and  hour, 
and  some  members  will  not  meet  with  them  at  that  place,  and  day, 
and  hour,  they  cannot  possibly,  then,  have  their  local,  personal 
communion.  Or,  if  the  pastor  will  use  such  a  translation  of  the 
Scriptures,  or  such  a  version  of  the  Psalms,  or  such  a  method  in 
preaching  and  prayer,  or  such  notes  or  books,  and  other  like  helps  ; 
if  any  members  will  not  submit  nor  hold  communion  with  the  rest, 
unless  that  translation  or  version,  or  method  of  preaching,  or  praying, 
or  notes,  or  books,  be  laid  aside,  he  cannot  have  communion  while 
he  refuseth  it.  If  the  pastor  and  all  the  rest  will  not  yield  to 
him,  he  must  join  with  some  other  church  that  he  can  agree  with. 
And  as  long  as  the  catholic  church  communion  is  maintained,  (which 
consisteth  in  unity  of  the  Christian  covenant,  or  of  Christianity, 
or  of  faith,  love,  and  obedience,)  the  difference  of  modes  and  cir- 


55S  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

oumstances  between  particular  churches  must  be  allowed  without 
any  breach  of  charity,  or  without  disowning  one  another.  And 
he  that  cannot  be  a  member  of  one  particular  church,  may  quietly 
join  himself  to  another,  without  condemning  that  which  he  dis- 
senteth  from,  so  far  as  to  hinder  his  catholic  communion  with  it, 
(even  as  among  the  Papists,  men  may  be  of  which  order  or  of  re- 
ligious persons  they  best  lik'e,  as  long  as  they  submit  to  their  gen- 
eral government.)  And  here  the  strong,  judicious  Christian,  for 
his  part,  will  never  be  guilty  of  church  divisions.  For,  1.  he  will 
make  nothing  necessary  to  church  communion,  which  any  sober, 
pious,  peaceable  minds  shall  have  any  just  reason  to  except  against, 
or  which  may  not  well  be  manifested  to  be  for  the  edification  of 
the  church.  2.  And  he  will  bear  with  the  weak  dissenters  so  far 
as  will  stand  with  the  peace  and  welfare  of  the  church.  3.  And 
he  will  particularly  give  leave  to  such  weak  ones  as  cannot  yet 
hold  communion  with  him,  being  peaceable,  and  not  promoting 
heresy,  ungodliness,  or  sedition,  to  join  to  another  church,'  where 
they  can  hold  communion  with  peace  to  their  own  consciences;  as 
long  as  they  continue  their  aforesaid  catholic  communion.  For  the 
strong  know  that  they  must  not  only  bear  with,  but  bear  the  "  in- 
firmities of  the  weak,  and  not  to  please  themselves,  but  every  one 
of  them  to  please  his  neighbor  for  good  to  edification.  For  even 
Christ  pleased  not  himself."  And  so  they  will  "  receive  one  an- 
other, as  Christ  also  received  us,  to  the  glory  of  God,  not  despising 
the  weak,  nor  rejecting  them  that  .God  receiveth  ; "  Rom.  xv. 
1 — 3.  7.  xiv.  1 — 4.  17,  18.  And  thus  you  may  see  how  easy  a 
matter  it  were  to  unite  and  reconcile  all  the  Christian  world,  if  the 
principles  of  the  judicious,  confirmed  Christian  might  be  received 
and  prevail ;  and  that  it  is  not  he  that  is  the  cause  of  the  abundance 
of  sin  and  calamity  which  divisions  have  caused  and  continued  in 
the  church.  But  that  which  now  seemeth  an  impossible  thing, 
may  quickly  and  easily  be  'accomplished  if  all  were  such  as  he. 
And  that  the  difficulty  of  reconciling  and  uniting  Christians,  lieth 
not  first  in  finding  out  the  terms,  but  in  making  men  fit  to  receive 
and  practice  the  terms  from  the  beginning  received  by  the  church- 
es. This  is  Lirinensis's  '  Quod  semper,  ubique,  et  ab  omnibus 
receptum  est ; '  supposing  still  that  the  magistrate  be  submitted  to 
by  every  soul,  even  as  he  is  the  keeper  of  both  tables ;  Rom. 
xiii.  1—3. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  is  too  easily  tempted  to  be  the  di- 
vider of  the  church,  by  expecting  that  it  be  united  upon  his  im- 
possible or  unrighteous  terms.  Sometimes  he  will  be  orthodox 
overmuch,  or  rather  wise  in  his  own  conceit,  (Rom.  xii.  16.)  and 
then  none  are  judged  fit  for  his  communion  that  be  not  of  his 
opinion,  in  controverted  doctrinals,  (e.  g.  predestination,  the  man- 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  559 

ner  of  the  work  of  (Trace,  freewill,  perseverance,  and  abundance 
such.)  Sometimes  he  will  be  righteous  overmuch,  or  (to  speak 
more  properly)  superstitious  ;  and  then  none  are  tit  for  his  com- 
munion that  worship  not  God  in  that  method  and  manner  for  cir- 
cumstantials, which  he  este,emed  best.  And  his  charity  is  so  weak, 
that  it  freeth  him  not  from  thinking  evil,  (1  Cor.  xiii.)  and  so  narrow, 
that  it  covereth  not  either  many  or  great  infirmities.  The  more  need 
he  hath  of  the  forbearance  and  charity  of  others,  the  less  can  he  bear 
or  forbear  others  himself.  The  strong  Christian  must  bear  the  in- 
firmities of  the  weak  ;  but  the  weak  Christian  can  scarce  bear  the 
weak  or  strong.  Nay,  he  is  oft  too  impatient  with  some  of  their 
virtues  and  duties,  as  well  as  with  their  infirmities.  He  is  of  too 
private  a  spirit,  and  too  insensible  of  the  public  interest  of  the 
church  of  Christ.  And  therefore  he  must  have  all  the  world  come 
over  to  him,  and  be  conformed  to  his  opinion  and  party,  and  unite 
upon  his  mistaken,  narroiy  terms,  if  they  will  have  communion  with 
Rim.  I  mean,  it  is  thus  with  him,  when  the  temptation  on  that 
side  prevaileth.  And  sometimes  he  is  overcome  with  the  tempta- 
tion of  domination,  to  make  his  judgment  a  rule  to  others  ;  and  then 
he  quite  overvalueth  his  own  understanding,  and  will  needs  be 
judge  of  all  the  controversies  in  the  church  ;  and  taketh  it  as  un- 
sufferable,  if  wiser  and  better  men  do  not  take  him  as  infallible, 
and  in  every  thing  observe  his  will.  And  when  his  brethren  give 
him  the  reason  of  their  dissent,  as  his  judgment  is  not  clear  enough 
to  understand  them,  so  his  passion  and  partiality  are  too  strong  to 
suffer  his  judgment  to  do  its  part.  And  thus  oftentimes  he  is  a 
greater  hinderance  to  the  church's  unity,  than  the  enemies  of  the 
church  themselves.  For  he  hath  not  judgment  enough  to  guide 
.  him  the  right  way*  and  yet  he  hath  so  much  zeal  as  will  not  suffer 
him  to  keep  his  errors  to  him. 

3.  And  all  these  distempers,  that  are  but  in  a  lower  degree  in  the 
weak  Christian,  are  predominant  in  the  hypocrite.  The  church 
shall  have  no  concord  or  peace,  if  he  can  hinder  it,  but  what  is  con- 
sistent with  his  carnal  interest,  his  honor,  or  wealth,  or  dignity  in 
the  world.  The  pride  and  covetousness  Which  rule  himself,  he 
would  have  to  make  the  terras  of  concord,  and  to  rule  all  others. 
It  is  hypocrites  in  the  church  that  are  the  greatest  cause  of  discord 
afid  divisions,  having  selfish  spirits,  principles,  and  ends,  and  having 
always  a  work  of  their  own  to  do,  which  suits  not  well  with  the 
work  of  Christ ;  and  yet  Christ's  work  must  be  subjected  to  it,  and 
ordered,  and  overruled  by  it.  And  while  they  pretend  to  go  to  the 
Scriptures,  or  to  councils  or  fathers  for  their  reasons,  indeed  they 
go  first  for  them  to  their  worldly  interest ;  and  then  would  fain  hire 
or  press  the  Scripture,  church,  or  fathers,  to  serve  their  turn,  and 
come  in  as  witnesses  on  their  side.     And  thus  the  church,  as  well 


560  tHARACTER    OF    A   SOUND, 

as  Clirlst,  is  betrayed  by  the  covetous  Judases  of  his  own  family. 
And  the  servants  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  that  take 
up  the  livery  of  Christ,  and  usurp  the  name  and  honor  of  Christian, 
do  more  effectually  hinder  the  concord  and  prosperity  of  the  church, 
than  any  open  enemies  do.  And  those^  that  are  indeed  no  Chris- 
tians, do  cause  Christianity  to  be  reproached  ;  even  as  spies  and 
traitors  that  are  hired  by  the  enemy  to  take  up  arms  in  the  army 
which  they  fight  against,  that  they  may  betray  it  by  their  fraud, 
and  do  more  harm  to  it  by  raising  mutinies,  and  by  false  conduct, 
than  a  multitude  of  professed  enemies  could  have  done.  It  is 
proud,  and  worldly,  carnal  hypocrites,  that  hinder  most  the  concord 
of  believers. 

LIV.  1.  A"  confirmed  Christian  is  of  a  peaceable  spirit.  He  is 
not  masterly,  domineei'ing,  turbulent,  hurtful,  cruel,  seditious,  fac- 
tious, or  contentious.  He  is  like  ripened  fruits  that  are  mellow 
and  sweet,  when  the  younger,  greener  fruits  are  sour  and  harsh. 
He  is  not  wise  in  his  own  conceit,  (Rom.  xii.  16.)  and  therefor^ 
not  over-urgent  in  obtruding  his  conceits  on  others,  not  quarrelsome 
with  all  that  cannot  entertain  them,  nor  will  he  easily  lay  men's . 
salvation  or  damnation,  no,  nor  the  church's  peace,  upon  them. 
He  is  "  kindly  affectioned  toothers  with  brotherly  love ;  ye3,  loveth 
his  neighbor  as  himself;"  ver.  10.  xiii.  9,  10.  And  therefore  he 
doth  to  others  as  he  would  they  should  do  to  him,  and  uses  them 
as  he  would  be  used  by  them.  And  then  how  far  they  are  like  to 
suffer  by  him,  you  may  easily  judge.  For  "love  worketh  no  ill 
to  his  neighbor;"  ver.  10.  He  fs  above  the  portion  of  the  world- 
ling, and  a  contemner  of  that  vanity  which  carnal  men  account 
their  felicity  ;  and  therefore  he  preferreth  love  and  quietness  before 
it,  and  can  lose  his  right  when  the  interest  of  Ibve  and  peace  re- 
quireth  it.  He  is  become  as  a  little  child  in  his  conversion,  (Matt. 
xviii.  3.)  and  is  low  and  little  in  his  own  eyes,  and  therefore  con- 
tendeth  not  for  superiority  or  preeminence,  either  in  place  or  pow- 
er, or  reputation  of  his  learning,  wisdom,  or  piety;  but ''  in  honor 
preferreth  others  before  himself;"  Rom.  xii.  10.  "  He  mindeth 
not  high  things,  but  condescendeth  to  men  of  low  estate ; "  (Rom. 
xii.  16.)  and  therefore  will  not   contend  for  estimation  and  prece- 

.dency,  nor  scramble  to  be  highest,  though  he  rise  by  the  ruins  of 
men's  bodies  and  souls.     "  If  it  be  possible,  as  much  as  lieth  irt 

,  him,  he  will  live  peaceably  with  all  men  ;"  ver.  18.  For  he  is 
not  one  that  by  word  or  deed  will  avenge  himself;  but  when  the 
wrath  of  others  is  up  like  a  blustering  storm,  he  giveth  place  to  it, 
he  boweth  before  it,  or  goeth  out  of  the  way.  "  If  his  enemy 
hunger,  he  feedeth  him  ;  if  he'thirst,  he  giVeth  him  drink;"  (ver. 
19.)  when  oppressors  would  deprive  not  only  an  enemy,  but  the 
righteous,  of  their  meat  and  drink  ;  and  thus  he  melteth  his  hardened 


COliFIRMEt)    CHKISTIAK.  561 

enemies  by  heaping  kindness  upon  thein  when  ihey  are  wrathful, 
and  proud,  and  contentious,  and  do  him  wrong,  or  use  provoking 
words  against  him  ;  he  is  not  overcome  of  their  evil  to  imitate  them, 
but  he  overcometh  their  evil  with  his  good;  ver.  20,  21.  If  God 
hath  given  him  more  knowledge  and  abilities  than  others,  he  doth 
not  presently  set  up  himself  to  be  admired  for  it,  nor  speak  disdain- 
fully or  contemptuously  of  those  that  are  not  of  his  mind.  But  he 
showeth  the  eminency  of  his  wisdom,  "  with  meekness  by  the  works 
of  a  good  conversation,"  and  by  doing  better  than  the  unwiser  do; 
James  iii.  1 — 13.  He  is  endued  with  the  "  wisdom  from  above, 
w'hich  is  first  pure,  then  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be  entreated, 
full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without  partiality,"  (or  wavering  in 
persecution,  as  Dr.  Hammond  renders  it,)  and  without  hypocrisy. 
And  thus  the  "  fruit  of  righteousness  is  sown  in  peace  of  them  that 
make  peace  ;  "  James  iii.  17,  18.  As  he  is  "  taught  t>f  God  to  love 
his  brother ; "  (1  Thess.  iv,  9.)  so  that  same  teaching  with  experi- 
ence of  the  etTects  assureth  him,  that  they  that  pretend  to  be  wiser 
and  better  than  others,  when  "  they  have  bitter,  envious  zeal  and 
strife  in  their  hearts,  they  vainly  glory  and  lie  against  the  truth. 
This  wisdom  descendeth  not  from  above,  but  is  earthly,  sensual, 
and  devilish..  For  where  envying  and  strife  is,  there  is  confusion 
and  every  evil  work ;  "  James  iii.  14,  15,  16.  (Read  but  the  story 
of  the  Jewish  zealots  in  Josephus,  and  the  heretical  zealots  in  all 
ages  of  the  church,  and  you  will  perceive  the  truth  of  this.)  When 
such  quarrelsome  spirits  are  filling  the  church  with  contentions,  or 
vexations  about  their  meats  and  drinks,  and  days,  &ic.,  the  Chris- 
tian indeed  understandeth  that  '  the  kingdom  of  God  consisteth  '  not 
of  such  things  as  these,  but  'in  righteousness  and  peace,  and  joy  in 
the  Holy  Ghost ;'  and  he  that  in  these  things  serveth  Christ,  is  ac- 
ceptable to  God,  and  approved  of  (wise  and  sober)  men.  Therefore 
he  foUoweth  after  things  which  make  for  peace,  and  things  where- 
with one  may  edify  another  ;  and  will  not,  for  meats,  k.c.  destroy 
the  work  of  God  ;"  Rom.  xiv.  17 — 20.  He  stayeth  not  till  peace 
be  offered  him,  or  brought  home  to  him,  but  "  he  followeth  peace 
with  all  men,  as  well  as  holiness;"  Heb.  xii.  14.  If  it  fly  from 
him,  he  pursueth  it;  If  it  be  denied  him,  he  seeketh  it,  and  will  not 
refuse  to  stoop  to  the  poorest  for  it,  and  to  beg  it  of  his  inferiors,  if 
it  were  upon  his  knees,  rather  than  be  denied  it,  and  live  an  un- 
peaceable,  disquiet  life  ;  Psalm  xxxiv.  14.  For  he  believeth  that 
••blessed  are  the  peacemakers, for  they  shall  be  called  the  children 
of  God;"  Matt.  v.  9. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  hath  the  same  spirit,  and  therefore 
the  love  of  peace  is  most  predominant  in  him.  But,  alas!  he  is 
too  easily  tempted  into"  religious  passions,  discontents,  contentious 
disputations,  quarrelsome  and  opprobrious  words;  and  his  judg- 

VOL.  1.  71 


562  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

ment  lamentably  darkened  and  perverted,  whenever  contentious 
zeal  prevailelh,  and  passions  do  perturb  the  quiet  and  orderly  ope- 
rations of  the  soul.  He  wanteth  both  the  knowledge  and  the  ex- 
perience, and  the  mellowness  of  spirit,  which  riper  Christians  have 
attained  :  he  hath  a  less  degree  of  charity,  and  is  less  acquainted 
with  the  mischiefs  of  unpeaceableness ;  and  therefore  it  is  the  com- 
mon course  of  young  professors  to  be  easily  tempted  into  unpeace- 
able  ways  ;  and  when  they  have  long  tried  them  5  (if  they  prove  not 
hypocrites)  to  come  off  at  last  upon  experience  of  the  evils  of  them ; 
and  so  the  young  Christians,  conjunct  with  some  hypocrites,  make 
up  the  rigorous,  fierce,  contentious  and  vexatious  party  ;  and  the 
aged,  ripe  Christians  make  up  the  holy,  moderate,  healing  party, 
that  groan  and  pray  for  the  church's  peace,  and  mourn  in  secret 
both  for  the  ungodliness  and  violence  which  they  cannot  heal. 
Yea,  the  difference  is  much  apparent  in  the  books  and  sermons 
which  each  of  them  is  best  pleased  with.  The  ripe,  experienced 
Christian  loveth  those  sermons  that  kindle  love,  and  tend  to  peace ; 
and  love  such  healing  books  as  do  narrow  differences  and  tend  to 
reconcile  and  heal ;  such  as  Bishop  Hall's  Peace-maker,  and  "  Pax 
Terris,"  and  all  his  writings;  and  Bishop  Davenant's,  Bishop  Mor- 
ton's, and  Bishop  Hall's  "  Pacificatory  Epistles  to  Duraeus,"  and 
"  Mr.  Burroughs'  Irenicon,"  Ludov.  Crocius,  Amyraldus,  Junius, 
Paraeus's  and  many  other  Irenicons  written  by  foreign  divines,  to 
say  nothing  that  are  upon  single  controversies.  But  the  younger, 
sour,  uncharitable  Christians  are  better  pleased  with  such  books 
and  sermons,  as  call  them  aloud  to  be  very  zealous  for  this  or  that 
contested  point  of  doctrine,  or  for  or  against  some  circumstance  of 
worship  or  church  discipline,  or  about  some  fashions,  or  customs, 
or  indifferent  things,  as  if  the  kingdom  of  God  were  in  them  ; 
Rom.  xiv.  1,  2.  15,  16. 

3.  But  the  seeming  Christian  is  either  a  mere  temporizer,  that 
will  be  of  that  religion,  whatever  it  be,  that  is  most  in  fashion,  or 
which  the  higher  powers  are  of,  or  which  will  cost  him  least ;  or 
else  he  will  run  into  the  other  extreme,  and  lift  up  himself  by  af- 
fected singularities,  and  by  making  a  bustle  and  stir  in  the  world, 
about  some  small  and  controverted  point ;  and  careth  not  to  sacrifice 
the  peace  and  safely  of  the  church  to  the  honor  of  his  own  opin- 
ions. And  as  small  as  the  Christian  church  is,  he  must  be  of  a 
smaller  society  than  it,  that  he  maybe  sure  to  be  amongst  the  best; 
while  indeed  he  hath  no  sincerity  at  all,  but  placeth  his  hopes  in 
being  of  the  right  church,  or  party,  or  opinion  ;  and  for  his  party  or 
church,  he  burneth  with  a  feverish  kind  of  zeal,  and  is  ready  to 
call  for  fire  from  heaven  ;  and  to  deceive  him,  the  devil  sendeth 
him  some  from  hell,  to  consume  them  that  are  not  of  his  mind : 
yet  doth  he  bring  it,  as  an  angel  of  light,  to  defend  the  truth  and 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN'.  563 

church  of  Christ.  And  iiitleed,  when  tlie  devil  will  be  the  defend- 
er of  truth,  or  of  the  church,  or  of  peace,  or  order,  or  piety,  he 
doth  it  with  the  most  burning  zeal ;  you  may  know  him  by  the 
means  he  useth.  He  defendeth  the  church,  by  forbidding  the 
people  to  read  the  Scriptures  in  a  known  tongue,  and  by  imprison- 
ing and  burning  the  soundest  and  holiest  members  of  itt,  and  abus- 
ing the  most  learned,  liiithful  pastors  ;  and  defendeth  the  flock 
by  casting  out  the  shepherds,  and  such  like  means,  as  the  murder- 
ers of  the  Waldenses,  and  the  massacres  of  France  and  Ireland,  and 
the  Spanish  inquisition,  and  Queen  Mary's  bonfires,  and  the  powder 
plot ;  yea,  and  the  Munster,  and  the  English  rage  and  phrensies,  may 
give  you  fuller  notice  of.  He  that  hath  no  holiness,  nor  charity  to 
be  zealous  for,  will  be  zealous  for  his  church,  or  sect,  or  customs, 
or  opinions  ;  and  then  this  zeal  must  be  the  evidence  of  his  piety. 
And  so  the  inquisitors  have  thought  they  have  religiously  served 
God,  by  murdering  his  servants  ;  and  it  is  the  badge  of  their  honor 
to  be  the  devil's  hangman,  to  execute  his  malice  on  the  members 
of  Christ  ;  and  all  this  is  done  in  zeal  for  religion  by  irreligious  hyp- 
ocrites. There  is  no  standing  before  the  malicious  zeal  of  a  grace- 
less Pharisee,  when  it  riseth  up  for  his  carnal  interest,  or  the  honor, 
and  traditions,  and  customs  of  his  sect;  Luke  vi.  7.  "And  they 
were  filled  with  madness,  and  communed  with  one  another  what 
they  might  do  to  Jesus;"  Luke  iv.  28.  Acts  v.  17.  xiii.  45. 
John  xvi.  2.  Rom.  x.  2.  Phil.  iii.  6.  Acts  xxvi.  10,  11.  The 
zeal  of  a  true  Christian  consumeth  himself  with  grief  to  see  the 
madness  of  the  wicked ;  but  the  zeal  of  the  hypocrite  consumeth 
others,  that  by  the  light  of  the  fire  his  religiousness  may  be  seen. 
You  may  see  the  Christian's  fervent  love  to  God,  by  the  fervent 
flames  which  he  can  suffer  for  his  sake ;  and  you  may  see  the  fer- 
vent love  of  the  hypocrite,  by  the  flames  which  he  kindleth  for 
others.  By  these  he  crieth  with  Jehu,  "Come  and  see  my  zeal 
for  the  Lord  ;  "  2  Kings  x.  16.     2  Sam.  xxi.  2. 

LV.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  most  highly  esteemeth 
and  regardeth  the  interest  of  God  and  men's  salvation  in  the  world, 
and  taketh  all  things  else  to  be  inconsiderable  in  comparison  of 
these..  The  interest  of  great  men,  and  nobles,  and  commanders, 
yea,  and  his  own  in  corporal  respects,  as  riches,  honor,  health  and 
life,  he  taketh  to  be  things  unworthy  to  be  named,  in  competition 
with  the  interest  of  Christ  and  souls.  The  thing  that  his  heart  is 
most  set  upon  in  the  world  is,  that  God  be  glorified,  and  that  the 
world  acknowledge  him  tlieir  King,  and  tliat  his  laws  be  obeyed, 
and  that  darkness,  infidelity  and  ungodliness  may  be  cast  out ;  and 
that  pride  and  worldliness,  and  fleshly  lusts,  may  not  hurry  the 
miserable  world  unto  perdition.  It  is  one  of  the  saddest  and  most 
amazing  thoughts  that  ever  entereth  into  his  heart,  to  consider  how 
much  of  the  world  is  overwhelmed  in   ignorance  and  wickedness, 


5G4  CHAKACTKR    OF    A    SOUND, 

and  how  great  the  kingdom  of  tlie  devil  is,  in  comparison  with  the 
kingdom  of  Christ;  that  God  siiould  forsake  so  much  of  his  crea- 
tion ;  that  Christianity  should  not  be  owned  in  above  the  sixth  part 
of  the  world  ;  and  Popish  pride  and  ignorance,  with  the  corruptions 
of  many  other  sects,  and  the  worldly,  carnal  minds  of  hypocrites, 
should  rob  Christ  of  so  much  of  this  little  part,  and  leave  him  so 
small  a  flock  of  holy  ones,  that  must  possess  the  kingdom.  His 
soul  consenteth  to  the  method  of  the  Lord's  prayer,  as  prescribing 
us  the  order  of  our  desires.  And  in  his  prayers  he  seeketh  first 
(in  order  of  estimation  and  intention)  the  hallowing  of  God's  name, 
and  the  coming  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  doing  of  his  will  on  earth  as 
it  is  done  in  heaven,  before  his  daily  bread,  or  the  pardon  of  his 
sins,  or  the  deliverance  of  his  soul  from  temptations  and  the  evil 
one.  Mark  him  in  his  prayers,  and  you  shall  find  that  he  is,  above 
other  men,  taken  up  in  earnest  petitions  for  the  conversion  of  the 
heathen  and  infidel  world,  and  the  undeceiving  of  Mahometans, 
Jews,  and  heretics,  and  the  clearing  of  the  church  from  those  Papal 
tyrannies,  and  fopperies,  and  corruptions,  which  make  Christianity 
hateful  or  contemptible  in  the  eyes  of  the  heathen  and  Mahometan 
world,  and  hinder  their  conversion.  No  man  so  much  lamenteth 
the  pride  and  covetousness,  and  laziness  and  unfaithfulness,  of  the 
pastors  of  the  church  ;  because  of  the  doleful  consequents  to  the 
gospel  and  the  souls  of  men,  and  yet  with  all  possible  honor  to  the 
sacred  office,  which  they  thus  profane.  No  man  so  heartily  lament- 
eth the  contentions  and  divisions  among  Christians,  and  the  doleful 
destruction  of  charity  thereby.  It  grieveth  him  to  see  how  much 
selfishness,  pride,  and  malice,  prevail  with  them  that  should  shine 
as  lights  in  a  benighted  world,  and  how  obstinate  and  incurable 
they  seem  to  be,  against  the  plainest  means,  and  humblest  motions. 
for  the  church's  edification  and  peace  ;  Psal.  cxx.  6,  7.  cxxii.  6. 
Phil.  ii.  1—4.  Psal.  cxix.  136.  Zeph.  iii.  18.  Ezek.  ix.  4. 
Psal.  Ixix.  9.  John  ii.  17.  He  envieth  not  kings  and  great  men 
their  dominions,  wealth  or  pleasure ;  nor  is  he  at  all  ambitious  to 
participate  in  their  tremendous  exaltation.  But  the  thing  that  his 
heart  is  set  upon  is,  "  that  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  may  all  be- 
come the  kingdomsof  the  Lord  ;  "  (Rev.  xi.  15.)  and  that  the  gospel 
may  every  where  "have  free  course  and  be  glorified,"  and  the 
preachers  of  it  be  encouraged,  or  at  least  "  be  delivered  from  un- 
reasonable, wicked  men;"  2  Thess.  iii.  1 ,  2.  Little  careth  he 
who  is  uppermost  or  conquereth  in  the  world,  or  who  goeth  away 
with  the  preferments  or  riches  of  the  earth,  (supposing  that  he  fail 
not  of  his  duty  to  his  rulers,)  so  that  it  may  go  well  with  the  affairs 
of  the  gospel,  and  soul?  be  but  helped  in  the  way  to  heaven.  Let 
God  be  honored,  and  souls  converted  and  edified,  and  he  is  satis- 
fied. This  is  it  that  maketh  the  times  good  in  his  account :  he 
thinketh  not,  as  the  proud  and  carnal  church  of  Rome,  that  the 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  565 

times  are  best  when  the  clergy  are  richest  and  greatest  in  the.world, 
and  overtop  princes,  and  claim  the  secular  power,  and  live  in 
worldly  pomp  and  pleasures  ;  but  when  holiness  most  aboundeth, 
and  the  members  of  Christ  are  likest  to  their  head,  and  when  mul- 
titudes of  sincere  believers  are  daily  added  to  the  church,  and 
when  the  mercy  and  holiness  of  God  shine  forth  in  the  numbers 
and  purity  of  the  saints.  It  is  no  riches  or  honor  that  can  be  heap- 
ed upon  himself,  or  any  others,  that  make  the  times  seem  good  to 
him,  if  knowledge  and  godliness  are  discountenanced  and  hindered, 
and  the  way  to  heaven  is  made  more  difficult ;  if  atheism,  infideli- 
ty, ungodliness,  pride  and  malignity  do  prevail,  and  truth  and  sin- 
cerity are  driven  into  the  dark ;  and  when  "  he  that  departeth  from 
evil  maketh  himself  a  prey;"  Psal.  lix.  15.  When  "  the  godly 
man  ceaseth,  and  the  faithful  fail  from  among  the  children  of  men  ; 
when  every  man  speaketh  vanity  to  his  neighbor,  and  the  poor  are 
oppressed,  and  the  needy  sigh,  and  the  wicked  walk  on  ever}^  side, 
wlien  the  vilest  men  are  exalted;"  Psal.  xii.  1,2.5.8.  The 
times  are  good  when  the  men  are  good ;  and  evil  when  the  men 
are  evil,  be  they  never  so  great  or  prosperous.  As  Nehemiah, 
when  he  was  cup-bearer  to  the  king  himself,  yet  wept  and  mourn- 
ed for  the  desolations  of  Jerusalem  ;  Nehem.  i.  3,  4.  ii.  2,  3. 
Whoever  prospereth,  the  times  are  ill  when  there  is  a  "famine  of 
the  word  of  the  Lord,  and  when  the  chief  of  the  priests  and  peo- 
ple do  transgress  and  mock  God's  messengers,  and  despise  his  word, 
and  misuse  his  prophets  ;  "  2  Chron.  xxxvi.  14.  16.  Amos  viii.  11, 
12.  When  the  apostles  are  "charged  to  speak  no  more  in  the 
name  of  Christ ;"  Acts  iv.  18.  v.  40.  It  is  a  text  enough  to  make 
one  tremble,  to  think  into  what  a  desperate  condition  the  Jews 
were  carried  by  a  partial,  selfish  zeal ;  "  who  both  killed  the  Lord 
Jesus,  and  their  own  prophets,  and  have  persecuted  us,  and  tliey 
please  not  God,  and  are  contrary  to  all  men  ;  forbidding  us  to  speak 
to  the  Gentiles,  that  they  might  be  saved,  to  fill  up  their  sin  ahvay, 
for  the  wrath  is  come  upon  them  to  the  uttermost ;"  1  Thess.  ii. 
15,  16.  When  the  interest  of  themselves,  and  their  own  nation 
and  priesthood,  did  so  far  blind  and  pervert  them,  that  they  durst 
persecute  the  preachers  of  the  gospel,  and  "forbid  them  to  speak 
to  the  people  that  they  may  be  saved  ; "  it  was  a  sign  that  "  wrath 
was  come  upon  them  to  the  uttermost."  A  Chrisdan  indeed  had 
rather  be  without  Jeroboam's  kingdom,  than  'make  Israel  to  sin,' 
and  '  make  the  basest  of  the  people  priests,'  and  '  stretch  out  his 
hand  against  the  prophet  of  the  Lord;'  1  Kings  xii.  30,  31.  xiii. 
4.  He  had  rather  labor  with  his  hands;  as  Paul,  and  live  in  pov- 
erty and  rags,  so  that  the  gospel  may  be  powerfully  and  plentifully 
preached,  and  holiness  abound,  than  to  live  in  all  the  prosperity  of 
the  world,  with  the  hinderance  of  men's  salvation.  He  had  rather 
be  a  door-keeper  in  the  house  of  God,  than  be  a  lord  in  the  king-- 


566 


CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


dom  of  Satan.     He  cannot  rise  by  the  ruins  of  the  church,  nor  feed 
upon  those  morsels  that  are  the  price  of  the  blood  of  souls. 

2.  And  the  weakest  Christian  is  in  all  this  of  the  same  mind, 
saving  that  private  and  selfish  interest  is  not  so  fully  overcome,  not 
so  easily  and  resolutely  denied  ;  Luke  xiv.  26.  33. 

3.  But  here  the  hypocrite  showeth  the  falseness  of  his  heart. 
His  own  interest  is  it  that  chooseth  his  religion ;  and  that  he  may 
not  torment  himself,  by  being  wicked  in  the  open  light,  he  maketh 
himself  believe,  that  whatsoever  is  most  for  his  own  interest  is  most 
pleasing  unto  God,  and  most  for  the  good  of  souls,  and  the  interest 
of  the  gospel ;  so  that  the  carnal  Romish  clergy  can  persuade 
their  consciences,  that  all  the  darkness  and  superstitions  of  their 
kingdom,  and  all  the  opposition  of  the  light  of  the  gospel  of  Christ, 
do  make  for  the  honor  of  God  and  the  good  of  souls  ;  because  they 
uphold  their  tyranny,  wealth,  and  pomp,  and  pleasure.  Or,  if  they 
cannot  persuade  their  consciences  to  believe  so  gross  a  lie,  let 
church  and  souls  speed  how  they  will,  they  will  favor  nothing  that 
favoreth  not  their  interest  and  ends.  And  the  interest  of  the  flesh 
and  Spirit,  and  of  the  world  and  Christ,  are  so  repugnant,  that 
commonly  such  worldlings  take  the  serious  practice  of  godliness  for 
the  most  hateful  thing,  and  the  serious  practicers  of  it  for  the  most 
insufferable  persons;  Acts  vii.  57.  xxi.  36.  xxii.  22.  xxiv.  5,6. 
John  xix.  15.  The  enmity  of  interests,  with  the  enmity  of  nature, 
between  the  woman's  and  the  serpent's  seed,  will  maintain  that 
warfare  to  the  end  of  the  world,  in  which  the  prince  of  the  powers 
of  darkness  shall  seem  to  prevail ;  (as  he  did  against  our  crucified 
Lord ;)  but  he  shall  be  overcome  by  his  own  successes,  and  the 
just  shall  conquer  by  p:itience,  when  they  seem  most  conquered. 
The  name,  and  form,  and  image  of  religion,  the  carnal  hypocrite 
doth  not  only  bear,  but  favor,  and  himself  accept ;  but  the  life  and 
serious  practice  he  abhorreth,  as  inconsistent  with  his  worldly  inter- 
est and  ends.  For  these  he  can  find  in  his  heart,  with  Ahab,  to 
hate  and  imprison  Micaiah,  and  prefer  his  four  hundred  flattering 
prophets ;  1  Kings  xxii.  6.  8.  24.  27.  If  Luther  will  touch  the 
pope's  crown  and  the  friars'  bellies,  they  will  not  scruple  to  op- 
pose and  ruin  both  him  and  all  such  preachers  in  the  world,  if  they 
were  able  ;  John  xi.  48.  50.     Acts  v.  28. 

LVL  I.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  whose  holiness  usually 
maketh  him  an  eyesore  to  the  ungodly  world  ;  and  his  charity,  and 
peaceableness,  and  moderation,  maketh  him  to  be  censured  as  not 
strict  enough,  by  the  superstitious  and  dividing  sects  of  Christians. 
For  seeing  the  church  hath  suffered  between  these  two  sorts  of  op- 
posers,  ever  since  the  suffering  of  Christ  himself,  it  cannot  be  but 
the  solid  Christian  offend  them  both,  because  he  hath  that  which 
both  dishke.  All  the  ungodly  hate  him  for  his  holiness,  which  is 
cross  to  their  interest  and  way ;  and  all  the  dividers  will  censure 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  567 

him  for  that  universal  charity  and  moderation,  which  is  against  their 
factious  and  destroying  zeal,  (described,  James  iii.)  Even  Christ 
himself  was  not  strict  enough  (in  superstitious  observances)  for  the 
ceremonious,  zealous  Pharisees.  He  transgressed,  with  his  disci- 
ples, the  .tradition  of  the  elders,  in  neglecting  their  observances, 
who  transgressed  the  commandment  of  God  by  their  tradition ; 
Matt.  XV.  2,  3.  He  was  not  strict  enough  in  their  uncharitable 
observation  of  the  Sabbath  day  ;  Matt.  xii.  2.  John,  who  was  emi- 
nent for  fasting,  they  said,  had  a  devil.  "  The  Son  of  man  came 
eating  and  drinking,  and  they  say,  '  Beheld  a  man  gluttonous,  and  a 
wine-bibber,  a  friend  of  publicans  and  sinners.'  But  wisdoni  is  jus- 
tified of  her  children  ;  "  Matt.  xi.  18,  19.  And  the  weak  Chris- 
tians (Rom.  xiv.  1 — 3.)  did  censure  those  that  did  eat  those  meats 
and  do  those  things  which  they  conceived  to  be  unlawful.  They 
that  err  themselves,  and  make  God  a  service  which  he  never  ap- 
pointed, will  censure  all  as  lukewarm,  or  temporizers,  or  wide-con- 
scienced  men,  that  err  not  with  them,  and  place  not  their  religion 
in  such  superstitious  observances,  as,  "touch  not,  taste  not,  handle 
not,"  &ic. ;  Col.  ii.  18.  21 — 23.  And  the  raw,  censorious  Christians 
are  offended  with  the  charitable  Cliristian,  because  he  damneth  not 
as  many  and  as  readily  as  they,  and  shutteth  not  enough  out  of  the 
number  of  believers,  and  judgeth  not  rirarously  enough  of  theu" 
ways.  In  a  word,  he  is  taken  by  one  sort  to  be  too  strict,  and  by 
the  other  to  be  too  compliant  or  indifferent  in  religion ;  because  he 
placeth  not  the  kingdom  of  God  in  meats  and  days,  and  such  like 
circumstances,  but  in  "  righteousness,  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy 
Ghost ; "  Rom.  xiv.  15 — 17.  And  as  Paul  withstood  Peter  to  the 
face,  for  drawing  men  to  make  scruple  or  conscience  of  things  law- 
ful ;  (Gal.ii.  11 — 13.)  so  is  the  sound  Christian  withstood  by  the 
superstitious,  for  not  making  scruple  of  lawful  things. 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  in  the  same  case,  so  long  as  he 
foUoweth  prudent,  pious,  charitable  guides.  But  if  he  be  taken  in 
the  snares  of  superstition,  he-  pleaseth  the  superstitious  party, 
though  he  displease  the  world.  • 

3.  And  whereas  the  solid  Christian  will  not  stir  an  inch  •  from 
truth  and  duty,  to  escape  either  the  hatred  of  the  wicked,  or  the 
bitterest  censures  of  the  sectary,  or  the  weak,  the  hypocrite  must 
needs  have  one  party  on  his  side  ;  for  if  both  cofidemn  him,  and 
neither  applaud  him,  he  loseth  his  peculiar  reward  ;  Matt.  vi.  2. 
5.  xxiii.  5 — 8. 

LVII.  1.  The  confirmed  Christian  doth  understand  the  neces- 
sity of  a  faithful  ministry,  for  the  safety  of  the  weak,  (as  well  as  the 
conversion  of  the  wicked,)  and  for  the  preservation  of  the  interest 
of  religion  upon  earth.  And  therefore  no  personal  unwortliiness 
of  ministers,  nor  any  calumnies  of  enemies,  can  make  him  think  or 
speak  dishonorably  of  that  sacred  office.     But  he  reverenceth  it  as 


568  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

instituted  by  Christ ;  and  though  he  loathe  the  sottishness  and  wick- 
edness of  those  that  run  before  they  are  sent,  and  are  utterly  insuf- 
ficient or  ungodly,  and  take  it  up  for  a  living  or  trade  only,  as 
they  would  a  common  work ;  and  are  "  sons  of  Belial,  that  know 
not  the  Lord,  and  cause  the  offering  of  the  Lord  to  be .  abhorred  ; " 
(1  Sam.  ii.  2.  17.)  yet  no  such  temptation  shall  overthrow  his 
reverence  to  the  office,  which  is  the  ordinance  of  Christ ;  much 
less  will  he  be  unthankful  to  those  who  are  able  and  faithful  in 
their  office,  and  labor  instantly  for  the  good  of  souls,  as  willing  to 
spend  and  be  spent  for  their  salvation.  When  the  world  abuseth, 
and  dei^deth,  and  injureth  them,  he  is  one  that  honoreth  them,  both 
for  their  work  and  master's  sake,  and  the  experience  vyhich  he  hafth 
had  of  the  blessing  of  God  on  their  labors  to  himself.  For  he 
knoweth  that  the  smiting  of  the  shepherds  is  but  the  devil's  ancient 
.  way  for  the  scattering  of  the  flock ;  though  he  knoweth  that  "  if 
the -salt  hath  lost  its  savor,  it  is  good  for  nothing,  neither  fit  for  the 
land,  nor  yet  for  the  dunghill ;  but  men  cast  it  out,  and  it  is  trodden 
under  foot ;  (he  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him  hear  ; ")  Luke 
xiv.  34,  35.  Matt.  v.  13,  14.  Yet  he  also  knoweth,  that  he 
"  that  receiveth  a  prophet  in  the  name  of  a  prophet,  shall  receive 
a  prophet's  reward  ;"  Matt.  x.  41,  42.  And  that  "  he  that  re- 
ceiveth them  receiveth  Christ,  and  he  that  despiseth  them  (that 
are  sent  by  him)  despiseth  him;"  Luke  x.  16.  He  therefore 
readily  obeyed  those  commands,  Heb.  xiii.  17.  "  Obey  them 
that  have  the  rule  over  you,  and  submit  yourselves ;  for  they 
watch  for  your  souls  as  those  that  must  give  an  account ;  "  1  Thess. 
V.  12,  13.  "  We  beseech  you,  brethren,  to  know  them  which  labor 
among  you,  and  are  over  you  in  the  Lord,  and  admonish  you ;  and 
to  esteem  them  very  highly  in  love  for  their  works'  sake,  and  be 
at  peace  among  yourselves  ;  "  1  Tim.  v.  1*7.  "  Let  the  elders  that 
rule  well,  be  counted  worthy  of  double  honor ;  especially  they  who 
labor  in  the  word  and  doctrine." 

2.  But  though  the  weak  Christian  be  of  the  same  mind  so  far 
as  he  is  sanctified,  yet  is  he  much  more  easily  tempted  into  a 
wrangling  censoriousness  against  his  teachers,  though  they  be  never 
so  able  and  holy  men ;  and  by  seducers  may  be  drawn  to  oppose 
them,  or  speak  contemptuously  of  them,  as  the  Galatians  did  of 
Paul,  and  some  of  the  Corinthians  ;  accounting  him  as  theii-  enemy 
for  telling  them  the  truth,  when  lately  they  would  have  plucked 
out  their  eyes  to  do  him  good  ;  Gal.  iv.  15,  16. 

3.  But  the  hypocrite  is  most  easily  engaged  against  them,  either 
when  they  grate  upon  the  guilt  of  his  former  sin,  or  open  his  hy- 
pocrisy, or  plainly  cross  him  in  his  carnal  interest,  or  else  when  his 
pride  hath  conquered  his  sobriety,  and  engaged  him  in  some  sect 
or  erroneous  way,  which  his  teachers  are  against,  and  would  re- 
•fiuce  him  from  ;  Johnvi.  66.     Mark  V.  27.     2  Chron.  xxv.  16. 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN".  569 

LVIII.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  hatli  stored  up  such 
manifold  experience  of  the  fuIfilHng  of  God's  promises,  and  the 
hearing  of  prayers,  and  the  goodness  of  his  holy  ways,  as  will 
greatly  fortify  him  against  all  temptations  to  infidelity,  apostasy,  or 
distrust.  No  one  hath  stronger  temptations  usually  than  he,  and 
no  one  is  so  well  furnished  with  weapons  to  resist  them.  The 
arguments  of  most  others  are  fetched  out  of  their  books  only  ;  but 
lie  hath,  moreover,  a  life  of  experience  to  confirm  his  faith,  and  so 
hath  the  witness  in  himself.  He  hath  tried  and  found  that  in  God, 
in  holiness,  in  fliith,  in  prayer,  which  will  never  suffer  him  to  for- 
sake them.  Yea,  it  is  like  that  he  hath  upon  record  some  such  won- 
ders in  the  answer  of  prayers,  as  might  do  much  to  silence  an  infi- 
del himself.  I  am  sure  many  Christians  have  had  such  strange  ap- 
pearances of  the  extraordinary  hand  of  God,  that  hath  done  much 
to  destroy  the  remnants  of  their  own  unbelief;  Psal.  Jxvi.  16. 

2.  But  the  experiences  of  the  younger,  weaker  Christian  are 
much  shorter,  and  less  serviceable  to  their  faith  ;  and  they  have 
not  judgment  enough  to  understand  and  make  use  of  the  dealings 
of  God  ;  but  are  ready  to  plead  his  providences  unto  evil  ends  and 
consequences,  and  to  take  their  own  passionate  imaginations  for  the 
workings  of  the  Spirit.  It  is  ordinary  with  them  to  say,  '  This  or 
that  was  set  upon  my  heart,  or  spoken  to  me,'  as  if  it  had  been  some 
divine  inspiration,  when  it  was  nothing  but  the  troubled  workings 
of  a  weak,  distempered  brain  ;  and  it  is  their  own  fancy  and  heart 
that  saith  that  to  them,  which  they  think  the  Spirit  of  God  within 
them  said;  Heb,  v.  11 — 13.  2Thess.  ii.  21.  John  iv.  1.  1 
Tim.  iv.  1.     1  Cor.  xii.  10.     Jer.  xxiii.  27,  28.  32.     xxix.  8. 

3.  And  the  hypocrite  wanteth  those  establishing  experiments  of 
the  power  of  the  gospel,  and  the  hearing  of  jirayers,  and  fulfilling 
of  promises,  and  communion  with  Christ  in  the  Spirit ;  and 
therefore  he  is  the  more  open  to  the  power  of  temptations,  and  a 
subtle  disputer  will  easily  corrupt  him,  and  carry  him  away  to  flat 
apostasy;  for  he  wanteth  the  root  and  witness  in  himself;  Matt. 
xlii.  21,  22.     1  John  v.  10.     Heb.  vi.  6—8.     Luke  viii.  13. 

LIX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed  is  one  that  highly  valueth  sancti- 
fied affections  and  passions,  that  all  he  doth  may  be  done  as  lively 
as  possibly  he  can  ;  and  also  holy  abilities  for  expression.  But  he 
much  more  valueth  the  three  great  essential,  constant  parts  of  the 
new  creature  within  him  ;  that  is,  1.  A  high  estimation  of  God, 
and  Christ,  and  heaven,  and  holiness  in  his  understanding,  above 
•all  that  can  be  set  in  any  competition.  2.  A  resolved  choice  and 
adhesion  of  the  will,  by  which  he  preferreih  God,  and  Christ,  and 
heaven,  and  holiness,  above  all  that  can  be  set  against  them,  and 
is  fixedly  resolved  here  to  place  his  happiness  and  his  hopes.  3. 
The  main  drift  and  endeavors  of  his  life,  m  which  he  "  seeketh  first 
VOL.  I.  72 


570  CHARACTER  OF    A    SOUND, 

the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness ; "  Matt.  vi.  33.    9.  20. 

21.  In  these  three  (his  highest  estimation,  his  resolved  choice 
and  complacencies,  and  his  chief  endeavors)  he  taketh  his  standing, 
constant  evidences  of  his  sincerity  to  consist ;  and  by  these  he  trieth 
himself  as  to  his  stale,  and  not  by  the  passionate  feelings  or  affec- 
tions of  his  heart ;  nor  by  his  memory,  or  gifts,  or  orderly  thinking 
or  expression.  And  it  is  these  rational  operations  of  his  soul,  in 
which  he  knoweth  that  holiness  doth  principally  consist ;  and 
therefore  he  most  laboreth  to  be  strong  in  these:  I.  To  ground  his 
judgment  well ;  2.  And  to  resolve  and  fix  his  will ;  3.  And  to  order 
his  conversation  aright ;  (Psal.  1.  23.)  yet  highly  valuing  sensible 
affections  and  gifts  of  utterance,  but  in  subserviency  to  those  which 
are  the  vital  acts ;  1  Cor.  xiii.  Rom.  vii.  18,  he.  vi.  16.  22. 
Rom.  viii.  13.     James  ii.     Col.  i.  9.     iii.  16. 

2.  But  the  weak  Christian  usually  placeth  most  of  his  religion 
in  the  more  affectionate  and  expressive  part :  he  striveth  more 
with  his  heart  for  passionate  apprehensions,  than  for  complacency 
and  fixed  resolution.  He  is  often  in  doubt  of  his  sincerity,  when 
he  wanteth  the  feeling,  affectionate  workings  which  he  desireth,  &c. ; 
thinketh'he  hath  no  more  grace  than  that  he  hath  sensibility  of  ex- 
pressive gifts  ;  and  so,  as  he  buildeth  his  comfort  upon  these  incon- 
stant signs,  his  comforts  are  accordingly  inconstant.  Sometimes 
he  thinketh  he  hath  grace,  when  his  body  or  other  advantages  do 
help  the  excitation  of  his  lively  affections:  and  when  the  dullness 
of  his  body,  or  other  impediments,  hinder  this,  he  questioneth  his 
grace  again,  because  he  understandeth  not  aright  the  nature  and 
chiefest  acts  of  grace. 

3.  The  hypocrite  hath  neither  the  rational  nor  the  passionate 
part  of  sincerity ;  but  he  may  go  much  further  in  the  latter  than 
the  former.  A  quick  and  passionate  nature,  though  unsanctified, 
may  be  brought  to  shed  more  tears,  and  express  more  fervor,  than 
many  a  holy  person  can ;  especially  upon  the  excitation  of  some 
quickening  sermons,  or  some  sharp  afihction,  or  great  conviction, 
or  at  the  approach  of  death.  Few  of  the  most  holy  persons  can 
constantly  retain  so  lively,  fervent,  passionate  repentings,  and  de- 
sires, and  resolutions  to  amend,  as  some  carnal  persons  have  in 
sickness.  The  power  of  fear  alone  doth  make  them  more  earnest 
than  love  maketh  many  a  gracious  soul ;  but  when  the  fear  is  over, 
they  are  the  same  again.  How  oft  have  I  heard  a  sick  man  most 
vehemently  profess  his  resolutions  for  a  holy  life,  which  all  have 
come  to  nothing  afterward  !  How  oft  have  I  heard  a  common 
drunkard,  wit'a  tears,  cry  out  against  himself  for  his  sin,  and  yet  go 
on  in  it!  And  how  many  gracious  persons  have  I  known  whose 
judgments  and  wills  have  been  groundedly  resolved  for  God  and 
holiness,  and  their  lives  have  been  holy,  fruitful,  and  obedient,  who 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN'.  571 

yet  could  not  shed  a  tear  for  sin,  nor  feel  any  very  great  sorrows  or 
joys !  If  you  judge  of  a  man  by  his  earnestness  in  some  good  moods, 
and  not  by  the  constant  tenor  of  his  life,  you  will  think  many  a  hypo- 
crite to  be  better  than  most  saints.  Who  would  have  thought,  that 
had  seen  him  only  in  that  fit,  but  that  Saul  had  been  a  penitent 
man,  when  he  lift  up  his  voice  and  wept,  and  said  to  David,  "Thou 
art  more  righteous  than  I,  for  thou  hast  rewarded  me  good  ;  where- 
as I  have  rewarded  thee  evil ;"  1  Sam.  xxiv.  16 — 21.  A  small- 
er matter  will  raise  some  sudden  passions,  than  will  renew  the  soul, 
and  give  the  preeminence  to  God,  and  holiness,  and  heaven,  in  the 
judgment,  will,  and  conversation  ;  Hosea  vi.  4.  xiii.  3.  Isaiah 
Iviii.  2.     Matt.  xiii.  20. 

LX.  1.  A  Christian  indeed,  confirmed  in  grace,  is  one  that 
maketh  it  the  business  of  his  life  to  prepare  for  death ;  and  delay- 
eth  not  his  serious  thoughts  of  it,  and  preparations  for  it,  till  it  sur- 
prise him ;  and  therefore  when  it  cometh  it  findeth  him  prepared, 
and  he  gladly  entertaineth  it  as  the  messenger  of  his  Father,  to  call 
him  to  his  everlasting  home.  It  is  not  a  strange,  unexpected  thing 
to  him,  to  hear  he  must  die ;  he  died  daily  in  his  daily  sufferings, 
and  mortified  contempt  of  worldly  things,  and  in  his  daily,  expecta- 
tion of  his  change.  He  wondereth  to  see  men,  at  a  dying  time, 
surprised  with  astonishment  and  terror,  who  jovially  or  carelessly 
neglected  it  before,  as  if  they  had  never  known  till  then  that  they 
must  die.  Or  as  if  a  few  years'  time  were  reason  enough  for  so 
great  a  difference.  For  that  which  he  certainly  knoweth  will  be, 
he  looketh  at  as  if  it  were  even  at  hand ;  and  his  preparation  for  it 
is  more  serious  in  his  health,  than  other  men's  is  on  their  death-bed. 
He  useth  more  carefully  to  bethink  himself  what  graces  he  shall 
need  at  a  dying  time,  and  in  what  case  he  shall  then  wish  his  soul 
to  be ;  and  accordingly  he  laboreth  in  his  provisions  now,  even  as 
if  it  were  to  be  to-morrow.  He  verily  believeth  that  it  is  incom- 
parably "  better  for  him  to  be  with  Christ,"  than  to  abide  on  earth  ; 
and,  therefore,  though  death  of  itself  be  an  enemy,  and  terrible  to 
nature,  yet  being  the  only  passage  into  happiness,  he  gladly  enter- 
taineth it.  Though  he  have  not  himself  any  clear  apprehensions 
of  the  place  and  state  of  the  happiness  of  departed  souls,  yet  it 
quieteth  him  to  know  that  they  "  shall  be  with  Christ,"  and  that 
Christ  knoweth  all,  and  prepareth  and  secureth  for  him  that  prom- 
ised rest;  John  xii.  26.  2  Cor.  v.  1.  7,  8.  Phil.  i.  21.  23. 
Luke  xxiii.  43.  Though  he  is  not  free  from  all  the  natural  fears 
of  death,  yet  his  belief  and  hope  of  endless  happiness  doth  abate 
those  fears  by  the  joyful  expectation  of  the  gain  which  followeth. 
See  my  book,  called  "  The  Last  Enemy,  and  the  Last  Work  of 
a  Believer;"  and  that  of  "Self-denial,"  against  the  fears  of 
death. 


572  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

But  especially  he  loveth  and  longcth  for  the  coming  of  Christ  to 
judgment,  as  knowing  that  then  the  marriage-day  of  the  Lamb  is' 
corne,  and  then  the  desires  and  hopes  of  all  believers  shall  be 
satisfied ;  "  then  shall  the  righteous  shine  as  stars  in  the  kingdom 
of  their  Father  ;  "  and  the  hand  of  violence  shall  not  reach  them. 
Every  enemy  then  is  overcome,  and  all  the  Redeemer's  work  is 
consummated,  and  the  kingdom  delivered  up  unto  the  Father. 
Then  shall  the  ungodly  and  the  unmerciful  be  confounded,  and  the 
righteous  filled  with  everlasting  joy,  when  the  Lord  shall  thorough- 
ly plead  their  cause,  and  justify  them  against  the  accusations  of 
Satan,  and  all  the  hes  of  his  malicious  instruments.  O  blessed, 
glorious,  joyful  day,  when  Christ  shall  come  with  thousands  of  his 
angels,  "  to  execute  vengeance  on  the  ungodly  world,  and  to  be 
glorified  in  his  saints,  and  admired  in  all  them  that  believe ;  "  2 
Thess.  i.  8 — ^10.  When  the  patient  followers  of  the  Lamb  shall 
behold  him  in  glory  whom  they  have  believed  in,  and  shall  see 
that  they  did  not  pray,  or  hope,  or  wait  in  vain.  When  Christ 
himself,  and  his  sacred  truth,  shall  be  justified  and  glorified  in  the 
presence  of  the  world,  and  his  enemies'  mouths  forever  stopped. 
"  When  he  shall  convince  all  that  are  ungodly,  of  all  their  ungodly 
deeds,  which  they  have  ungodly  committed,  and  of  all  their  hard 
speeches,  which  ungodly  sinners  have  spoken  against  him ; "  Jude 
14,  15.  Where,  then,  is  the  mouth  thatpleadeth  the  cause  of  infi- 
delity and  impiety  ?  and  reproached  the  serious  holiness  of  believ- 
ers ?  and  made  a  jest  of  the  judgments  of  the  Lord  ?  Then  what 
terrors,  and  confusion,  and  shame,  what  fruitless  repentings,  will 
seize  upon  that  man,  that  set  himself  against  the  holy  ones  of  the 
Lord,  and  knew  not  the  day  of  his  visitation,  and  embraced  the 
image  and  form  of  godliness,  while  he  abhorred  the  power  I  The 
joys  which  will  then  possess  the  hearts  of  the  justified,  will  be  such 
as  now  no  heart  can  comprehend.  When  love  shall  come  to  be 
glorified  in  the  highest  expression,  to  those  that  lately  were  so  low  ; 
when  all  their  doubts,  and  fears,  and  sorrows,  shall  be  turned  into 
lull,  contenting  sight,  and  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  away,  and  all 
reproaches  turned  into  glory,  and  every  enemy  overcome,  and  sin 
destroyed,  and  holiness  eftected,  and  our  "  vile  bodies  changed, 
and  made  like  the  glorious  body  of  Christ;"  (Phil.  iii.  20,  21. 
Col.  iii.  3,  4.)  then  will  the  love  and  work  of  our  redemption  be 
fully  understood.  And  then  a  saint  will  be  a  saint  indeed,  when 
with  Christ  they  shall  "  judge  the  angels  and  the  world  ;  "  (1  Cor. 
vi.  2,  3.)  and  shall  hear  from  Christ,  "  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my 
Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation 
of  the  world ; "'  Matt.  xxv.  34.  "  Enter  ye  into  the  joy  of  your 
Lord  ;"  Matt.  xxv.  21.  Then  "  every  knee  shall  bow  to  Christ, 
and  everv  tongue  shall  confess  that  he  is  Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  57'J 

the  Father;"  Phil.  ii.  9 — 11.     Then  sin  will  fully  appear  in  its 

malignity,  and  holiness  in  its  lustre  unto  all.  The  proud  will  then 
be  abased,  and  the  mouths  of  all  the  wicked  stopped  ;  when  they 
shall  see,  to  their  confusion,  the  glory  of  that  Christ  whom  they 
despised,  and  of  those  holy  ones  whom  they  made  their  scorn.  In 
vain  will  they  then  "  knock  when  the  door  is  shut,  and  cry,  Lord,. 
Lord,  open  unto  us  ; "  Matt.  xxv.  10 — 12.  And  in  vain  will  they 
then  wish, '  O  that  we  had  known  the  day  of  our.  visitation,  that  we 
might  have  died  the  death  of  the  righteous,  and  our  latter  end 
might  have  been  as  his;'  Numb,  xxiii.  10.  Rom.  ili.  19.  Job 
V.  16.     Psal.  cvii.  42.     xxxi.  23.     xiii.  6.  8. 

The  day  of  death  is  to  true  believers  a  day  of  happiness  and 
joy ;  but  it  is  much  easier  for  them  to  think  with  joy  on  the 
coming  of  Christ,  and  the  day  of  judgment,  because  it  is  a  day  of 
fuller  joy,  and  soul  and  body  shall  be  conjoined  in  the  blessedness ; 
and  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  be  so  great  a  stop  to  our  desires  as 
death  is,  which  naturally  is  an  enemy.  God  hath  put  a  love  of 
life,  and  fear  of  death,  into  the  nature  of  every  sensible  creature,  as 
necessary  for  the  preservation  of  themselves  and  others,  and  the 
orderly  government  of  the  world.  But  what  is  there  in  the  blessed 
day  of  judgment,  which  a  justified  child  of  God  should  be  averse 
to  ?  O,  if  he  were  but  sure  that  this  would  be  the  day,  or  week, 
or  year,  of  the  coming  of  his  Lord,  how  glad  would  the  confirmed 
Christian  be !  And  with  what  longings  would  he  be  looking  up, 
to  see  that  most  desired  sight ! 

2.  And  the  weak  Christian  is  so  far  of  the  same  mind,  that  lie 
had  rather  come  to  God  by  death  and  judgment,  than  not  at  all ; 
(except  when  temptations  make  him  fear  that  he  shall  be  con- 
demned.) He  hath  fixedly  made  choice  of  that  felicity,  which  till 
then  he  cannot  attain.  He  would  not  take  all  the  pleasures  of 
this  world  for  his  hopes  of  the  happiness  of  that  day :  but  yet  he 
thinketh  not  of  it  with  so  strong  a  faith  and  great  consolation,  nor 
with  such  boldness  and  desire,  as  the  confirmed  Christian  doth  ; 
but  either  with  much  more  dull  security,  or  more  perplexity  and 
fear.  His  thouglits  of  God,  and  of  the  world  to  come,  are  much 
more  dark  and  doubtful,  and  his  fears  of  that  day  are  usually  so 
great,  as  to  make  his  desires  and  joys  scarcely  felt ;  only  he  think- 
eth not  of  it  with  that  contempt  or  stupidity  as  the  infidel  or  bar-  , 
dened  sinner,  nor  with  the  terrors  of  those  that  have  no  God,  no' 
Christ,  no  hope ;  (except  when  temptation  bringcth  him  near  to 
the  borders  of  despair.)  His  death,  indeed,  is  unspcakablv  safer 
than  the  death  of  the  ungodly,  and  the  joys  which  he  is  entering 
into  will  quickly  end  the  terror ;  but  yet  he  hath  no  groat  comfort 
at  the  present,  but  only  so  much  trust  in  Christ,  as  keepeth  his 
heart  from  sinking  into  despair. 


574  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

3.  But  to  the  hypocrite,  or  seeming  Christian,  death  and  judg- 
ment are  the  most  unwelcome  days,  and  the  thoughts  of  them  are 
the  most  unwelcome  thoughts.  He  would  take  any  tolerable  life 
on  earth,  at  any  time,  for  alJ  his  hopes  of  heaven  ;  and  that  not 
only  through  the  doubts  of  his  own  sincerity,  (which  may  some- 
times be  the  case  of  a  tempted  Christian,)  but  through  the  un- 
soundness of  his  belief  of  the  life  to  come,  or  the  utter  unsultable- 
ness  of  his  soul  to  such  a  blessedness ;  which  maketh  him  look  at 
it  as  less  desirable  to  him  than  a  life  of  fleshly  pleasures  here. 
All  that  he  doth  for  heaven  is  upon  mere  necessity,  because  he 
knoweth  that  die  he  must,  and  he  had  rather  be  in  heaven  than  in 
hell,  though  he  had  rather  be  in  prosperity  on  earth  than  either. 
And  as  he  taketh  heaven  but  as  a  reserve  or  second  good,  so  he 
seeketh  it  with  reserves,  and  in  the  second  place.  And  having  no 
better  preparations  for  death  and  judgment,  no  marvel  if  they  be 
his  greatest  terror.  He  may  possibly,  by  his  self-deceit,  have  some 
abatement  of  his  fears ;  and  he  may,  by  pride  and  wit,  seem  very 
valiant  and  comfortable  at  his  death,  to  hide  his  fear  and  pusilla- 
nimity from  the  world.  But  the  cause  of  all  his  misery  is,  that  he 
sought  not  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  righteousness,  and  laid 
not  up  a  treasure  upon  heaven,  but  upon  earth,  and  loved  this 
world  above  God,  and  above  the  world  to  come  ;•  and  so  his  heart 
is  not  set  on  heaven,  nor  his  affections  on  things  above  ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  hath  not  that  love  to  God,  to  Christ,  to  saints,  to  perfect 
holiness,  which  should  make  that  world  most  desirable  in  his  eyes, 
and  make  him  think  unfeignedly  that  it  is  best  for  him  to  depart 
and  live  with  Christ  forever.  Having  not  the  divine  nature,  nor 
having  lived  the  divine  life  in  walking  with  God,  his  complacency 
and  desires  are  carnal,  according  to  the  nature  which  he  hath. 
And  this  is  the  true  cause  (and  not  only  his  doubts  of  his  own 
sincerity)  of  his  unwillingness  to  die,  or  to  see  the  day  of  Christ's 
appearance;  Matt.  vi.  33.  19 — 21.  1  John  ii.  15.  Col.  iii. 
1—4.     Rom.  viii.  5—8.     1  Cor.  ii.  13,  14.     2  Pet.  1.  4. 

And  thus  I  have  showed  you  from  the  word  of  God,  and  the 
nature  of  Christianity,  the  true  characters  of  the  Confirmed  Chris- 
tian, and  of  the  Weak  Christian,  and  of  the  Seeming  Christian. 

The  uses  for  which  I  have  drawn  up  these  characters,  and  which 
the  reader  is  to  make  of  them,  are  these : — 

1.  Here  the  weak  Christian  and  the  hypocrite  may  see  what 
manner  of  persons  they  ought  to  be.  Not  only  how  unsafe  it  is  to 
remain  in  a  state  of  hypocrisy,  but  also  how  uncomfortable,  and 
unserviceable,  and  troublesome  it  is,  to  remain  in  a  state  of  weak- 
ness and  diseasedness ;  what  a  folly  (and  indeed  a  sign  of  hypoc- 
risy) is  it  to  think,  '  If  I  had  but  grace  enough  to  save  me,  I  would 
desire  no  more,  or  I  would  be  well  content. '     Are  you  content,  if 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN.  Oid 

you  have  but  life  here,  to  difference  you  from  the  dead  ?  If  you 
were  continually  infants  that  must  be  fed,  and  carried,  and  made 
clean  by  others  ;  or  if  you  had  a  continual  gout,  or  slone,  or  leprosy, 
and  lived  in  continual  want  and  misery,  you  would  think  that  life 
alone  is  not  enough  ;  and  that  '  non  vivere  tan  turn  sed  valere  vita 
est ; '  that  life  is  uncomfortable  when  we  have  nothing  but  life,  and 
all  the  delights  of  life  are  gone.  He  that  lieth  in  continual  pain 
and  want  is  weary  of  his  life,  if  he  cannot  separate  it  from  those 
calamities.  He  that  knoweth  how  necessary  strength  is,  as  well 
as  life,  to  do  any  considerable  service  for  God,  and  how  many 
pains  attend  the  diseases  and  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and  what 
great  dishonor  cometh  to  Christ  and  religion,  by  the  faults  and 
childishness  of  many  that  shall  be  pardoned  and  saved,  would  cer- 
tainly bestir  him  with  all  possible  care  to  get  out  of  this  sick  or 
infant  state. 

2.  By  this  you  may  see  who  are  the  strong  Christians,  and  who 
are  the  weak.  It  is  not  always  the  man  of  learning  and  free  ex- 
pressions, that  can  speak  longest  and  most  wisely  of  holy  things, 
that  is  the  strong,  confirmed  Christian  ;  but  he  that  most  excelleth 
in  the  love  of  God  and  man,  and  in  a  heavenly  mind  and  holy  life. 
Nor  is  it  he  that  is  unlearned,  or  of  a  weak  memory,  or  slow  ex- 
pression, that  is  the  weakest  Christian ;  but  he  that  hath  least  love 
to  God  and  man,  and  the  most  love  to  his  carnal  self,  and  to  the 
world,  and  the  strongest  corruptions,  and  the  weakest  grace.  Many 
a  poor  day-laborer,  or  woman  that  can  scarce  speak  sense,  is  a 
stronger  Christian  (as  being  strong  in  faith,  and  love,  and  patience, 
and  humility,  and  mortification,  and  self-denial)  than  many  great 
preachers  and  doctors  of  the  church. 

3.  You  see  here  what  kind  of  men  they  be  that  we  call  the 
godly  ;  and  what  that  godliness  is  which  we  plead  for,  against  the 
malicious  serpentine  generation.  The  liars  would  make  men 
believe  that  by  godhness  we  mean  a  few  affected  strains,  or  hypo- 
critical shows,  or  heartless  lip-service,  or  singular  opinions,  in  need- 
less scrupulosity,  or  ignorant  zeal ;  yea,  a  schism,-  or  faction,  or 
sedition,  or  rebellion,  or  what  the  devil  please  to  say.  If  these 
sixty  characters  describe  any  such  thing,  then  I  will  not  deny,  that 
in  the  way  that  such  men  call  heresy,  faction,  schism,  singularhy, 
so  worship  we  the  God  of  our  fathers.  But  if  not,  the  Lord  re- 
buke thee,  Satan,  and  hasten  the  day  when  the  "  lying  lips  shall  be 
put  to  silence;"  Psal.  cxxxi.  IS.  cxx.  2.  cix.  2.  Prov.  xii.  19. 
22.  X.  18. 

4.  By  this  also  you  may  sec  how  inexcusable  the  enemies  of 
Christianity  and  godliness  are,  and  for  what  it  is  that  they  hate  and 
injure  it.     Is  there  any  thing  in  all  this  character  of  a'Christiau, 


576  CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 

that  deserveth  the  suspicion  or  hatred  of  the  world  ?  What  harm 
is  there  in  it  ?  Or  what  will  it  do  against  them  ?  I  may  say  to 
them  of  his  servants  as  Christ  did  of  himself:  "  Many  good  works 
have  I  showed  you  from  my  Father  :  for  which  of  these  works  do 
ye  stone  me  ? "  John  x.  32.  Many  heavenly  graces  are  in  the 
sanctified  believer :  for  which  of  these  do  you  hate  and  injure  him  ? 
I  know  that  goodness  is  so  far  in  credit  with  human  nature,  that 
you  will  answer  as  the  Jews  did  ;  "  For  a  good  work  we  stone 
thee  not,  but  for  blasphemy ;  "  ver.  33.  We  hate  them  not  for 
godliness,  but  for  hypocrisy  and  sin.  But  if  it  be  so  indeed,  1. 
Speak  not  against  godliness  itself,  nor  against  the  strictest  perform- 
ance of  our  duty.  2.  Yea,  plead  for  godliness,  and  countenance 
and  promote  it  while  you  speak  against  hypocrisy  and  sin.  3. 
And  choose  out  the  hypocrite  whose  character  is  here  set  before 
you ;  and  let  him  be  the  object  of  your  enmity  and  distaste.  Let 
it  fall  on  those  that  are  worldlings  and  time-servers,  and  will  stretch 
their  consciences  to  their  carnal  interest,  and  can  do  any  thing  to 
save  their  skin ;  and  being  false  to  Christ,  can  hardly  be  true  to 
any  of  their  superiors,  but  only  in  subordination  to  themselves. 
As  it  is  said  of  Constantius,  that  he  commanded  that  all  his  ser- 
vants should  be  turned  out  of  their  places  that  would  not  renounce 
Christianity.  And  when  he  had  thereby  tried  them,  he  turned 
out  all  the  apostates,  and  kept  in  the  sincere,  and  told  them,  they 
could  not  be  true  to  him,  that  were  not  true  to  their  God  and 
Savior.  4.  And  see  that  you  be  not  hypocrites  yourselves.  You 
profess  yourselves  Christians ;  and  what  is  it  to  be  a  Christian 
indeed,  you  may  here  perceive.  If  any  that  fall  under  the  character 
of  hypocrites,  or  worse,  shall  vilify  or  hate  the  sincere  Christians  as 
hypocrites,  what  a  horrid  aggravation  of  their  hypocrisy  will  it  be  ! 
Indeed,  it  is  the  best  and  strongest  Christians  that  have  most  of 
the  hatred  both  of  the  unbelieving  and  the  hypocritical  world. 
And  for  my  own  part  I  must  confess,  that  the  very  observation  of 
the  universal  implacable  enmity,  which  is  undeniably  seen  through- 
out the  world,  between  the  woman's  and  the  serpent's  seed,  (being 
such  as  is  not  found  among  any  other  sorts  of  men  on  other  occa- 
sions,) doth  not  a  little  confirm  my  belief  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
and  seemeth  to  be  an  argument  not  well  to  be  answered  by  any 
enemy  of  the  Christian  cause.  That  it  should  begin  between  the 
two  first  brothers  that<  ever  were  born  in  the  world,  and  stop  in 
nothing  lower  than  shedding  the  righteous  blood  of  Abel,  for  no 
other  cause,  but  because  the  works  of  Cain  were  evil,  and  his 
brother's  righteous  ;  (1  John  iii,  12, 13.)  and  that  it  should  go  down 
to  the  prophets,  and  Christ,  and  the  apostles,  and  primitive  saints, 
and  continue  to  this  day  throughout  the  earth ;  and  that  the  pro- 


CONFIRMED    CIIU1ST1A\.  Oii 

fession  of  the  same  religion  tiotli  nol  alter  it,  but  rather  eiirayt!  the 
enmity  of  hypoerites  against  all  that  are  serious  and  sincere  in  the 
religion  which  they  themselves  prolcss  ;  These  are  things  that  no 
good  account  can  be  given  of,  save  only  Irom  the  predictions  and 
verities  of  the  word  of  God.  ' 

5.  Also  you  may  hence  perceive  how  exceedingly  injurious 
hypocrites  and  scandalous  Christians  are  to  the  name  of  Christ, 
and  cause  of  Christianity  and  godliness  in  the  world.  The  blind, 
malicious  enemies  of  faith  and  godliness,  instead  of  judging  them 
by  the  sacred  rule,  do  look  only  to  the  professors,  and  think  of 
religion  as  they  tJiink  of  them.  If  they  see  the  professors  of 
Christianity  to  be  covetous,  proud,  usurpers,  time-servers,  self- 
exalters,  cruel,  schismatical,  rebellious,  they  presently  charge  all 
this  upon  their  religion ;  and  godliness  must  bear  the  blame,  when 
all  comes  but  for  want  of  godliness  and  religion.  And  all  the 
world  hath  not  done  so  much  against  these  and  all  other  sins  as 
Christ  hath  done.  What  if  Christ's  disciples  strive  who  shall  be 
the  greatest,  is  it  long  of  him  who  girdeth  himself  to  wash  and 
wipe  their  feet?  and  telleth  them,  that ''  except  they  be  converted, 
and  become  as  little, children,  they  shall  not  enter  into  the  kingdom 
of  God  ?  "  (Matt,  xviii.  3.)  and  telleth  thenr,  that  though  "  the 
kings  of  the  Gentiles  do  exercise  lordship  over  them,  and  they  that 
exercise  authority  upon  them  are  called  benefactors,  yet  ye  shall 
not  be  so  ? "  Luke  xxii.  25,  26.  Is  it  long  of  him  that  hath  said 
to  the  elders,  "  Feed  the  flock  of  God  which  is  among  you,  taking 
the  oversight  thereof,  not  by  constraint,  but  willingly  ;  not  for  filthy 
lucre,  but  of  a  ready  mind  ;  neither  as  being  lords  over  God's 
heritage,  but  being  examples  to  the  flock  ?  Who  hath  set  the 
elders  such  a  lesson  as  you  find  in  Acts  xx.  2  Tim.  iv.  1 — 3 
1  Tim.  V.  17?  If  any  called  Christians  should  be  truly  schismat- 
ical, factious,  or  turbulent,  is  it  long  of  him  that  hath  prayed  the 
Father  that  they  may  all  be  one  ?  (John  xvii.  21 — 23.)  and  hath  so 
vehemently  entreated  them  "  that  they  speak  the  same  thing,  and 
that  there  be  no  divisions  among  them,  and  that  they  be  perfectly 
joined  together  in  the  same  mind,  and  in  the  same  judgment  ? " 
(1  Cor.  vii.  10.)  and  hath  charged  them  to  "■  mark  them  that  cause 
divisions  and  offenses  contrary  to  the  doctrine  which  they  had 
learned,  and  to  avoid  them?"  Rom.  xvi.  16,  17.  If  any  called 
Christians  shall  be  seditious,  or  rebellious,  or  (as  the  Papists)  be- 
lieve, that  the  clergy  are  from  under  the  jurisdiction  of  kings,  and 
that  the  pope  hath  power  to  excommunicate  princes,  and  absolve 
their  subjects  from  their  allegiance,  and  give  their  dominions  to 
others,  as  it  is  decreed  in  the  general  council  at  the  Lateran  under 
Innocent  the  Third,  (Can.  3.)  is  all  this  long  of  Christ,  who  hath 

VOL.    K  73 


tUAKACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


paid  tribute  to  Caesar,  and  hath  commanded  that  every  soul  be 
subject  to  the  higher  powers,  and  not  resist,  and  this  for  conscience 
sake?  (Rom.  xiii.  1 — 3.)  and  hath  bid  his  disciples  rather  to  turn 
the  other  cheek,  than  to  seek  revenge  ?  (Luke  vi.  29.)  and  hath 
told  them  that  they  that  use  the  sword  (of  rebellion,  or  revenge, 
or  cruelty)  shall  perish  by  the  sword?  John  xviii.  11.  If  any 
Christians  will,  under  pretense  of  religion,  set  up  a  cruel  inquisition, 
or  kill  men  to  convert  them,  or  become  self-lovers,  covetous,  boast- 
ers, proud,  blasphemers,  disobedient  to  parents,  unthankful,  unholy, 
without  natural  affection,  truce-breakers,  false  accusers,  incontinent, 
fierce,  despisers  of  those  that  are  good,  &c.,  is  this  long  of  him  that 
hath  forbid  all  this  ?  2  Tim.  iii.  2 — 5.  If  for  their  own  domination, 
lust,  or  cov'etousness,  men  called  Christians  will  be  worse  than 
heathens  and  wolves  to  one  another,  is  this  long  of  him  that  hath 
made  it  his  sheep-mark,  by  which  we  must  be  known  to  all  men 
to  be  his  disciples,  that  "  we  love  one  another?  "  (John  xiii.  35.) 
and.  hath  told  them,  that  if  they  "  bite  and  devour  one  another, 
they  shall  be  devoured  one  of  another?"  (Gal.  v.  15.)  and  hath 
blessed  the  merciful,  as  those  that  shall  find  mercy,  (Matt.  v.  7.) 
and  hath  told  men  that  what  they  do  to  his  little  ones,  shall  be 
taken  as  if  it  were  done  to  himself?  (Matt,  xxv.)  and  hath  com- 
manded the  "  strong  to  bear  with  the  infirmities  of  the  weak,  and 
not  to  please  themselves  ?  "  (Rom.  xv.  1 — 3.)  and  "  to  receive 
one  another  as  Christ  received  us  ? "  (ver.  7.)  and  hath  told  those 
that  offend  but  "  one  of  his  little  ones, "  that  it  "  were  good  for 
that  man  that  a  millstone  were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  he  were 
drowned  in  the  depths  of  the  sea?"  (Matt,  xviii.  6.)  and  hath  told 
him  that "  smiteth  his  fellow  servants,  that  his  Lord  will  come  in  a 
day  when  he  looketh  not  for  him,  and  shall  cut  him  asunder,  and 
appoint  him  his  portion  with  the  hypocrites,  where  shall  be  weep- 
ing and  gnashing  of  teeth  ?  "  chap.  xxiv.  48 — 51.  I  wonder  what 
men  would  have  Christ  do,  to  free  himself  and  the  Christian  reli- 
gion from  the  imputation  of  the  sins  of  the  hypocrites,  and  the 
weak,  distempered  Christians.  Would  they  have  him  yet  make 
stricter  laws,  (when  they  hate  these  for  being  so  strict  already,^  or 
would  they  have  him  condemn  sinners  to  more  grievous  punish- 
ment, when  they  are  already  offended  at  the  severity  of  his  threat- 
enings  ?  O  what  an  unrighteous  generation  are  his  enemies  that 
blame  the  law,  because  men  break  it,  and  blame  religion,  because 
juany  are  not  .religious  enough  !  As  if  the  sun  must  be  hated, 
because  tliat  shadows  and  dungeons  do  want  light ;  or  life  and 
health  must  be  hated,  because  many  are  sick  and  pained  by  their  dis- 
eases !  But  Christ  will  shortly  stop  all  the  mouths  of  these  unrea- 
sonable men  ;  and  O  iiow  easily  will  he  justify  himself,  his  laws,  and 


CONFIRMEU    CHRISTIAN.  379 

all  his  holy  ways,  when  all  iniquity  shall  be  forever  silent !  And 
though  "  it  must  needs  be  that  offenses  come,  yet  woe  to  the  world 
because  of  offenses,  and  woe  to  the  man  by  whom  they  come." 

The  wrong  that  Christ  receiveth  from  hypocrites  and  scandalous 
Christians  (of  all  ranks  and  places)  is  not  to  be  estimated.  These 
are  the  causes  that  Christianity  and  godliness  are  so  contemptible  in 
the  eyes  of  the  world  !  that  Jews,  and  heathens,  and  Mahometans, 
are  still  unconverted  and  deriders  of  the  faith ;  because  they  see 
such  scandalous  tyranny  and  worship  among  the  Papists,  and  such 
scandalous  lives  among  the  greatest  part  pf  professed  Christians  in 
the  world  ;  whereas,  if  the  Papal  tyranny  were  tui-ned  into  the 
Christian  ministry,  (Luke  xxii.  25 — 27.  1  Tim.  v.  17.)  and 
their  irrational  fopperies,  and  historical,  hypocritical  worship  w^ere 
changed  into  a  reverent,  rational,  and  spiritual  worship ;  and  the 
cruel,  carnal,  worldly  lives  of  men  called  Christians,  were  changed 
into  self-denial,  love,  and  holiness ;  in  a  word,  if  Christians  were 
Christians  indeed,  and  such  as  I  have  here  described  from  their  rule, 
what  a  powerful  means  would  it  be  of  the  conversion  of  all  the  un- 
believing world  !  Christianity  would  then  be,  in  the  eye  of  the  w  orld, 
as  the  sun  in  its  brightness,  and  the  glory  of  it  Would  dazzle  the  eyes 
of  the  beholders,  and  draw  in  millions  to  inquire  after  Christ,  who  are 
now  driven  from  him  by  the  sins  of  hypocrites  and  scandalous  believers. 

And  this  doth  not  contradict  what  I  said  before  of  the  enmity  of 
the  worid  to  holiness,  and  that  the  best  are  most  abused  by  the 
ungodly  ;  for  even  this  enmity  must  be  rationally  cured,  as  by  the 
error  of  reason  it  is  fed.  God  useth,  by  the  power  of  intellectual 
light,  to  bring  all  those  out  of  darkness  whom  he  saveth,  and  so 
bringeth  them  from  the  power  of  Satan  to  himself;  Acts  xxvi.  18. 
Men  hate  not  holiness  as  good,  but  as  misconceived  to  be  evil. 
Evil,  I  say,  to  them,  because  it  is  opposite  to  their  sensual  pleasures, 
which  they  take  to  be  their  chiefest  good.  And  the  w-ay  of  curing 
their  enmity,  is  by  showing  them  their  error;  and  that  is,  by  show- 
ing them  the  excellency  and  necessity  of  that  which  they  un- 
reasonably distaste  ;  Acts  xxvi.  9 — 11.  11.  19.  Luke  xv.  13^ — 
16.     Acts  ii.  36,  37. 

6.  Lastly  ;  in  these  characters  you  have  some  help  in  the  work 
of  self-examination,  for  the  trial  both  of  the  truth  and  strength  of 
grace.  I  suppose  it  will  be  objected,  that  in  other  treatises,  1  have 
reduced  all  the  infallible  marks  of  grace  to  a  smaller  number.  To 
which  I  answer,  I  still  say,  that  the  predominnncy  or  prevalejicy  of 
the  interest  of  God  as  our  God,  and  Christ  as  our  Savior,  and 
the  Spirit  as  our  Sanctifier,  in  the  estimation  of  the  understanding, 
the  resolved  choice  of  the  will,  and  the  government  of  the  life, 
against  all  the  worldly  interest  of  the  Jlesh,  is  the  only  infallibh 


580 


CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND, 


sign  of  a  justified ,  regenerate  soul.  But  this  whole  hath  man}' 
parts,  and  it  is  abundance  of  particulars  materially  in  which  this  sin- 
cerity is  to  be  found.  Even  all  the  sixty  characters  which  I  have 
liere  named,  are  animated  by  that  one,  and  contained  in  it.  And 
I  think  to  the  most  the  full  description  of  a  Christian  in  his  essen- 
tia] and  inteoral  parts  (yet  showing;  which  are  indeed  essential)  is 
the  best  way  to  acquaint  them  with  the  nature  of  Christianity,  and 
to  help  them  in  the  trial  of  themselves.  And  as  it  were  an  abuse 
of  human  nature,  for  a  painter  to  draw  the  picture  of  a  man  without 
arms,  or  legs,  or  nose,  or  -eyes,  because  he  may  be  a  man  without 
them  ;  so  would  it  have  been  in  me  to  draw  only  a  maimed  picture 
of  a  Christian,  because  a  maimed  Christian  is  a  Christian.  Yet, 
because  there  are  so  many  maimed  Christians  in  the  world,  I  have 
also  showed  you  their  lamentable  defects  ;  not  in  a  manner  which 
tendeth  to  encourage  them  in  their  sins  and  wants,  under  pretense 
of  comforting  them,  but  in  that  manner  .which  may  best  excite 
them  to  their  duty,  in  order  to  their  recovery,  without  destroying 
their  necessary  supporting  comforts. 

O  happy  church,  and  state,  and  family,  which  are  composed  of 
such  confirmed  Christians !  where  the  predominant  temperature  is 
such  as  I  have  here  described  !  Yea,  happy  is  the  place  where 
magistrates  and  ministers  are  such  ;  who  are  the  vital  parts  of 
state  and  church,  and  the  instruments  appointed  to  communicate 
these  perfections  to  the  rest.  But  how  much  more  happy  is  the 
New  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  the  living  God,  where  the  perfected 
spirits  of  the  just,  in  perfect  life,  and  light,  and  love,  are  perfectly 
beholding,  and  admiring,  and  praising,  and  pleasing  the  eternal  God, 
their  Creator,  Redeemer,  and  Sanctifier  forever  !  where  the  least 
and  meanest  is  greater  and  more  perfect  than  the  confirmed  Christian 
here  described  ;  and  where  hypocrisy  is  utterly  excluded,  and  im- 
perfection ceaseth,  with  scandal,  censures,  uncharitableness,  divis- 
ions, and  all  its  other  sad  effects ;  and  where  the  souls  that  thirst- 
ed after  righteousness  shall  be  fully  satisfied,  and  love  God,. more 
than  they  can  now  desire,  and  never  grieve  themselves  or  others 
with  their  wants,  or  weaknesses,  or  misdoings,  any  more.  And,  O 
blessed  day,  when  our  blessed  Head  shall  be  revealed  from  heaven 
with  his  mighty  angels,  and  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in  his  saints, 
and  admired  in  all  them  that  now  believe ;  whose  weakness  here 
occasioned  his  dishonor  and  their  own  contempt!  When  the  seed 
of  grace  is  grown  up  into  glory,  and  all  the  world,  whether  they 
will  jDr  not,  shall  discern  between  the  righteous  and  the  wicked ; 
between  him  that  serveth  God  and  him  that  serveth  him  not ;  be- 
tween the  clean  and  the  unclean ;  and  between  him  that  sweareth 
and  him  that  feareth  an  oath.     And  though  now  "  otu-  life  is  hid 


CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAIST.  581 

with  Christ  in  God,"- and  it  yet  "  appearetli  not  (to  the  sight  ot 
ourselves  or  others)  what  we  shall  be  ;  yet  then,  when  Christ,  who 
is  our  life,  shall  appear,  we  also  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory  ; " 
Heb.  xii.  22,  23.  Rev.  xxii.  3—5.  14,  15.  xxi.  3, 4.  8.  2  Thess. 
i.  9,  10.  Matt.  V.  4.  6.  Mai.  iii.  18.  Eccles.  ix.  2.  1  John 
iii.  2, 3.  Col.  iii.  3,  4.  Away,  then, my  soul,  from  this  dark,  deceitful, 
and  vexatious  world  !  Love  not  thy  diseases,  thy  fetters  and  calami- 
ties. Groan  daily  to  thy  Lord,  and  earnestly  groan  to  be  clothed 
upon  with  thy  house  that  is  from  heaven,  (2  Cor.  v.  2.  4.)  that 
mortality  may  be  swallowed  up  of  life  !  Join  in  the  harmonious 
desires  of  the  creatures,  who  groan  to  be  delivered  from  the  bondage 
of  corruption,  into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God;  Rom. 
viii.  20 — 22.  "  Abide  in  him,  and  walk  in  righteousness,  that, 
when  he  shall  appear,  thou  mayest  have  confidence,  and  not  be 
ashamed  before  him  at  his  coming ;  "  1  John  iii.  28,  29.  Join 
not  with  the  evil  servants,  who  say  in  their  hearts,  "  Our  Lord  de- 
layeth  his  coming,  and  begin  to  smite  their  fellow  servants,  and  to 
eat  and  drink  with  the  drunken  ;  whose  Lord  shall  come  in  a  day 
when  they  look  not  for  him,  and  in  an  hour  that  they  are  not 
aware  of,  and  shall  cut  them  asunder,  and  appoint  them  their  por- 
tion with  the  hypocrites,  where  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of 
teeth  ;  "  Matt.  xxiv.  38 — 51.  O  watch  and  pray  that  thou  enter 
not  into  temptation!  and  be  patient,  for  the  Judge  is  at  the  door! 
Lift  up  thy  head  with  earnest  expectation,  O  my  soul,  for  thy  re- 
demption draweth  near!  Rejoice  in  hope  before  thy  Lord,  for  he 
Cometh  ;  he  cometh  to  judge  the  world  in  righteousness  and  truth. 
Behold  he  cometh  quickly,  though  faith  be  failing,  and  iniquity 
abound,  and  love  waxeth  cold,  and  scomers  say,  '  Where  is  the 
promise  of  his  coming  ! '  Make  haste,  O  thou  whom  my  soul  de- 
sireth,  and  come  in  glory  as  thou  first  camest  in  humility,  and  con- 
form them  to  thyself  in  glory,  whom  thou  madest  conformable  to 
thy  sufferings  and  humility !  Let  the  holy  city  New  Jerusalem 
be  prepared  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  husband  ;  and  let  God's 
tabernacle  be  with  men,  that  he  may  dwell  with  them;  and  be  their 
God,  and  wipe  away  their  tears,  and  death,  and  sorrow,  and  crying  ; 
and  pain  may  be  no  more,  but  former  things  may  pass  away  !  Keep 
up  our  faith,  our  hope,  our  love !  and  daily  vouchsafe  us  some 
beams  of  thy  directing,  consolatory  light  in  this  our  darkness ! 
and  be  not  as  a  stranger  to  thy  scattered  flock,  in  this  desolate  wil- 
derness !  But  let  them  hear  thy  voice,  and  find  thy  presence,  and 
have  such  conversation  with  thee  in  heaven,  in  the  exercise  of 
faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  which  is  agreeable  to  their  low  and  dis- 
tant state.  Testify  to  their  souls  that  thou  art  their  Savior  and 
Head,  and  that  they  abide  in  thee  by  the  Spirit  which  thou  hast 


582         CHARACTER    OF    A    SOUND,    CONFIRMED    CHRISTIAN. 

given  them,  abiding  and  overcoming  in  them,  and  as  thy  agent  pre- 
paring them  for  eternal  hfe.  O  let  not  our  darkness,  nor  any  strange- 
ness, feed  our  odious  unbelief  I  O  show  thyself  more  clearly  to  thy 
redeemed  ones !  and  come  and  dwell  in  our  hearts  by  faith  !  And 
by  holy  love  let  us  dwell  in  God,  and  God  in  us,  that  we  grope  not 
after  him,  as  those  that  worship  an  unknown  God.  O  save  us  from 
temptation  !  And  if  the  messenger  of  Satan  be  sent  to  buffet  us, 
let  thy  strength  be  manifested  in  our  weakness,  and  thy  grace  ap- 
pear sufficient  for  us.  And  give  us  the  patience  which  thou  tellest 
us  we  need,  that,  having  done  thy  will,  we  may  inherit  the  promise. 
And  bring  us  to  the  sight  and  fruition  of  our  Creator,  of  whom,  and 
through  whotn,  and  to  whom  are  all  things ;  to  whom  be  glory  for- 
ever.    Amen. 


MAKING   LIGHT    OF    CHRIST 


SALVATION, 


TOO   OFT   THE   ISSUE   OF   GOSPEL  INVITATIONS; 


MANIFESTED    IN 


A  SERMON  PREACHED  AT  LAURENCE  JURY 


IN   LONDON. 


TO    THE   READER. 


Reader, 

Being  called  on  in  London  to  preach,  when  I  had  no  time 
to. study,  I  was  fain  to  preach  some  sermons  that  I  had  preached 
in  the  country  a  little  before.  This  was  one,  which  I  preached  at 
St,  Laurence,  in  the  church  where  my  reverend  and  faithful  brother 
in  Christ,  Mr.  Richard  Vines,  is  pastor.  •  When  I  came  home,  I 
was  followed  by  such  importunities,  by  letters,  to  print  the  sermon, 
that  1  have  yielded  thereunto,  though  I  know  not  fully  the  ground 
of  their  desires.  Seeing  it  must  abroad,  will  the  Lord  but  bless  it 
to  the- cure  of  thy  contempt  of  Christ  and  grace,  how  comfortable 
may  the  occasion  prove  to  thee  and  me  !  It  is  the  slighting  of 
Christ  and  salvation  that  undoes  the  world.  O,  happy  man,  if 
thou  escape  but  this  sin !  Thousands  do  split  their  souls  on  this 
rock  which  they  should  build  them  on.  Look  into  the  world, 
among  rich  and  poor,  high  and  low,  young  and  old,  and  see  whether 
it  appear  not  by  the  whole  scope  of  their  conversations  that  they 
set  more  by  something  else  than  Christ  ?  And  for  all  the  procla- 
mations of  his  grace  in  the  gospel,  and  our  common  professing  our- 
selves to  be  his  disciples,  and  to  believe  the  glorious  things  that  he 
hath  promised  us  in  another  world,  whether  it  yet  appear  not  by 
the  deceitfulness  of  our  service,  by  our  heartless  endeavors  to  ob- 
tain his  kingdom,  and  by  our  busy  and  delightful  following  of  the 
world,  that  the  most  who  are  called  Christians  do  yet  in  their  hearts 
make  light  of  Christ ;  and  if  so,  what  wonder  if  they  perish  by 
their  contempt  1  Wilt  thou  but  soberly  peruse  this  short  discourse, 
and  consider  well  as  thou  readest  of  its  truth  and  weight,  till  thy 
heart  be  sensible  what  a  sin  it  is  to  make  light  of  Christ  and  thy 
own  salvation,  and  till  the  Lord  that  bought  thee  be  advanced  in 
the  estimation  and  affections  of  thy  soul,  thou  shalt  hereby  rejoice, 
and  fulfill  the  desires  of 

Thy  servant  in  the  faith, 

RICHARD  BAXTER. 


MAKING   LIGHT   OF  CHRIST. 


MATTHEW  xxii.  5. 

BCT    THEY    MADE    LIGHT    OF    IT. 

The  blessed  Son  of  God,  that  thought  it  not  enough  to  die  for 
the  world,  but  would  himself  also  be  the  preacher  of  grace  and  sal- 
vation, doth  comprise  in  this  parable  the  sum  of  his  gospel.  By 
the  king  that  is  here  said  to  make  the  marriage,  is  meant  God  the 
Father,  that  sent  his  Son  into  the  world  to  cleanse  them  from  their 
sins,  and  espouse  them  to  himself.  By  his  Son,  for  whom  the 
marriage  is  made,  is  meant  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the  eternal  Son 
of  God,  who  took  to  his  Godhead  the  nature  of  man,  that  he  might 
be  capable  of  being  their  Redeemer  when  they  had  lost  themselves 
in  sin.  By  the  marriage  is  meant  the  conjunction  of  Christ  to  the 
soul  of  sinners,  when  he  giveth  up  himself  to  them  to  be  their 
Savior,  and  they  give  up  themselves  to  him  as  his  redeemed  ones, 
to  be  saved  and  ruled  by  him ;  the  perfection  of  which  marriage  will 
be  at  the  day  of  judgment,  when  the  conjunction  between  the  whole 
church  and  Christ  shall  be  solemnized.  The  word  here  translated 
marriage,  rather  signifieth  the  marriage-feast ;  and  the  meaning  is, 
that  the  world  is  invited  by  the  gospel  to  come  in  and  partake  of 
Christ  and  salvation,  which  comprehendeth  both  pardon,  justifica- 
tion, and  right  to  salvation,  and  all  other  privileges  of  the  members 
of  Christ.  The  invitation  is  God's  offer  of  Christ  and  salvation  in 
the  gospel;  the  servants  that  invite  them  are  the  preachers  of  the 
gospel,  who  are  sent  forth  by  God  to  that  end;  the  preparation  for 
the  feast  there  mentioned,  is  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
enacting  of  a  law  of  grace,  and  opening  a  w-ay  for '  revolting  sinners 
to  return  to  God.  There  is  a  mention  of  sending  second  messen- 
gers, because  God  useth  not  to  take  the  first  denial,  but  to  exercise 
his  patience  till  sinners  are  obstinate.  The  first  persons  invited 
are  the  Jews.  Upon  their  obstinate  refusal,  they  are  sentenced  to 
punishment,  and  the  Gentiles  are  invited  ;  and  not  only  invited,  but, 
by  powerful  preaching,  and  miracles,  and  effectual  grace,  compelled  ; 
that  is,  infallibly  pre\  ailed  with  to  come  in.  The  number  of  them 
is  so  great  that  the  house  is  filled  with  guests.  Many  come  sin- 
voL.  I.  74 


586  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

cerely,  not  only  looking  at  the  pleasure  of  the  feast,  that  is,  at  the  par- 
don of  sin,  and  deliverance  from  the  wrath  of  God,  but  also  at  the 
honor  of  the  marriage,  that  is,  of  the  Redeemer,  and  their  profession 
by  giving  up  themselves  to  a  holy  conversation.  But  some  come 
in  only  for  the  feast,  that  is,  justification  by  Christ,  having  not  the 
wedding  garment  of  sound  resolution  for  obedience  in  their  life, 
and  looking  only  at  themselves  in  believing,  and  not  to  the  glory 
of  their  Redeemer ;  and  these  are  sentenced  to  everlasting  misery, 
and  speed  as  ill  as  those  that  came  not  in  at  all ;  seeing  a  faith  that 
will  not  work  is  but  like  that  of  the  devil ;  and  they  that  look  to  be 
pardoned  and  saved  by  it  are  mistaken,  as  James  showeth,  chap, 
ii.  24. 

The  words  of  my  text  contain  a  narration  of  the  ill  entertain- 
ment that  the  gospel  findeth  with  many  to  whom  it  is  sent,  even 
after  a  first  and  second  invitation.  They  make  light  of  it,  and  are 
taken  up  with  other  things.  Though  it  be  the  Jews  that  were 
first  guilty,  they  have  too  many  followers  among  us  Gentiles  to 
this  day. 

Doct.  '  For  all  the  wonderful  love  and  mercy  that  God  hath 
manifested  in  giving  his  Son  to  be  the  Redeemer  of  the  world,  and 
which  the  Son  hath  manifested  in  redeeming  them  by  his  blood  ; 
for  all  his  full  preparation  by  being  a  sufficient  sacrifice  for  the  sins 
of  all ;  for  all  his  personal  excellencies,  and  that  full  and  glorious 
salvation  that  he  hath  procured ;  and  for  all  his  free  offers  of  these, 
and  frequent  and  earnest  invitation  of  sinners ;  yet  many  do  make 
light  of  all  this,  and  prefer  their  worldly  enjoyments  before  it. 
The  ordinary  entertainment  of  all  is  by  contempt.' 

Not  that  all  do  so,  or  that  all  continue  to  do  so,  who  were  once 
guilty  of  it ;  for  God  hath  his  chosen,  whom  he  will  compel  to  come 
in.  But  till  tlie  Spirit  of  grace  overpower  the  dead  and  obstinate 
hearts  of  men,  they  hear  the  gospel  as  a  common  story,  and  the 
irreat  matters  contained  in  it  so  not  to  the  heart. 

The  method  in  which  I  shall  handle  this  doctrine  is  this: — 

I.  I  shall  show  you  what  it  is  that  men  make  light  of. 

II.  What  this  sin  of  making  light  of  it  is. 

III.  The  cause  of  the  sin. 

IV.  The  use  of  the  doctrine. 

I.  The  thing  that  carnal  hearers  make  light  of,  is,  1.  Tlie  doc- 
trine of  the  gospel  itself,  which  they  hear  regardlessly.  2.  The 
benefits  offered  them  therein  ;  which  are,  1 .  Christ  himself.  2. 
The  benefits  which  he  giveth. 

1.  Concerning  Christ  himself,  the  gospel,  (1.)  Declareth  his 
person  and  nature,  and  the  great  things  that  he  hath  done  and 
suffered  for  man  ;  his  redeeming  him  from  the  wrath  of  God  by  bis 
blood,  and  procuring  a  grant  of  salvation  with  himself.     (2.)  Fur- 


WAKING    LKJHT    OF    CUUIST.  GsJj 

thermore,  the  same  gospel  inaketh  an  offer  of  Christ  to  siimers, 
that  if  they  will  accept  him  on  his  easy  and  reasonable  terms,  he 
will  be  their  Savior,  the  physician  of  their  souls,  their  husband,  and 
their  head. 

2.  The  benefits  that  he  offereth  them  are  these.  (1.)  That 
with  these  blessed  relations  to  him,  himself,  and  interest  in  him, 
they  shall  have  the  pardon  of  all  their  sins  past,  and  be  saved  from 
God's  wrath,  and  be  set  in  a  sure  way  of  obtaining  a  })ardon  for  all 
the  sins  that  they  shall  commit  hereafter,  so  they  do  but  obey  sin- 
cerely, and  turn  not  again  to  the  rebellion  of  their  unregeneracy.  (2.) 
They  shall  have  the  Spirit  to  become  their  guide  and  sanctifier, 
and  to  dwell  in  their  souls,  and  help  them  against  their  enemies, 
and  conform  them  more  and  more  to  his  image,  and  heal  their  dis- 
eases, and  bring  them  back  to  God.  (3.)  They  shall  have  right 
to  everlasting  glory  when  this  life  is  ended,  and  shall  be  raised  up 
thereto  at  the  last;  besides  many  excellent  privileges  in  the  way, 
in  means,  preservation,  and  provision,  and  the  foretaste  of  what 
they  shall  enjoy  hereafter.  All  these  benefits  the  gospel  offereth 
to  them  that  will  have  Christ  on  his  reasonable  terms.  The  sum 
of  all  is  in  1  John  v.  11,  12,  "This  is  the  record,  that  God  hath 
given  us  eternal  life,  and  this  life  is  in  his  Son  :  he  that  hath  the 
Son  hath  life,  and  he  that  hath  not  the  Son  hath  not  life," 

II.  What  this  sin  of  the  making  light  of  the  gospel  is.  1.  To 
make  light  of  the  gospel  is  to  take  no  great  heed  to  what  is  spoken, 
as  if  it  were  not  a  certain  truth,  or  else  were  a  matter  that  little  con- 
cerned them ;  or  as  if  God  had  not  written  these  things  for  them. 
2.  When  the  gospel  doth  not  affect  men,  or  go  to  their  hearts ; 
but  though  they  seem  to  attend  to  what  is  said,  yet  men  are  not 
awakened  by  it  from  their  security,  nor  doth  it  work  in  any  measure 
such  holy  passion  in  their  souls  as  matters  of  such  everlasting  con- 
sequence should  do  ;  this  is  making  light  of  the  gospel  of  salva- 
tion. When  we  tell  men  what  Christ  hath  done  and  suffered 
for  their  souls,  it  scarcely  moveth  them :  we  tell  them  of  keen 
and  cutting  truths,  but  nothing  will  pierce  them  :  we  can  make 
them  hear,  but  we  cannot  make  them  feel :  our  words  take  up  in 
the  porch  of  their  ears  and  fancies,  but  will  not  enter  into  the  in- 
ward parts;  as  if  we  spake  to  men  that  had  no  hearts  or  feeling: 
this  is  a  making  light  of  Christ  and  salvation ;  (Acts  xxviii.  26, 
27.)  hearing  ye  shall  hear,  and  shall  not  understand ;  seeing  ye 
shall  see,  and  shall  not  perceive.  For  the  heart  of  this  people  is 
waxen  gross,  and  their  ears  are  dull  of  hearing,  their  eyes  are 
closed,  &.C. 

3.  When  men  have  no  high  estimation  of  Christ  and  salvation, 
but  whatsoever  they  may  say  with  their  tongues,  or  dreamingly 
and  speculatively  believe,  yet,  in  their  serious  and  practical  thoughts. 


588  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

they  have  a  higher  estimation  of  the  matters  of  ttiis  world  than 
they  have  of  Christ,  and  the  salvation  that  he  hath  purchased  ;  this 
is  a  making  light  of  him.  When  men  account  the  doctrine  of 
Christ  to  be  but  a  matter  of  words  and  names,  as  Gallio,  (Acts 
xviii.  4.)  or  as  Festus,  (Acts  xxv.  19.)  a  superstitious  matter  about 
one  Jesus  who  was  dead,  and  Paul  saith  is  alive ;  or  ask  the 
preachers  of  the  gospel,  as  the  Athenians,  "What  will  this  babbler 
say?"  (Acts  xvii.  18.)  this  is  contempt  of  Christ. 

4.  When  men  are  informed  of  the  truths  of  the  gospel,  and  on 
what  terms  Christ  and  his  benefits  may  be  had,  and  how  it  is  the 
will  of  God  that  they  should  believe  and  accept  the  offer ;  and 
he  commandeth  them  to  do  it  upon  pain  of  damnation  ;  and  yet 
men  will  not  consent,  unless  they  have  Christ  on  terms  of  their 
own ;  they  will  not  part  with  their  worldly  contents,  nor  lay  down 
their  pleasures,  and  profits,  and  honor,  at  his  feet,  as  being  content 
to  take  so  much  of  them  only  as  he  will  give  them  back,  and  as  is 
consistent  with  his  will  and  interest,  but  think  it  is  a  hard  saying, 
that  they  must  forsake  all  in  resolution  for  Christ ;  this  is  a  making 
light  of  him  and  their  salvation.  When  men  might  have  part  in  him 
and  all  his  benefits  if  they  would,  and  they  will  not,  unless  they 
may  keep  the  world  too ;  and  are  resolved  to  please  their  flesh, 
whatever  comes  of  it ;  this  is  a  high  contempt  of  Christ  and  ever- 
lasting life.  (Matt.  xiii.  21,  22.  Luke  xviii.  23.)  You  may  find 
examples  of  such  as  I  here  describe. 

5.  When  men  will  promise  fair,  and  profess  their  willingness  to 
have  Christ  on  his  terms,  and  to  forsake  all  for  him,  but  yet  do  stick 
to  the  world  and  their  sinful  courses  ;  and  when  it  comes  to  prac- 
tice, will  not  be  removed  by  all  that  Christ  hath  done  and  said  ;  this 
is  making  light  of  Christ  and  salvation.      (Jer.  xliii.  2.) 

III.  The  causes  of  this  sin  are  the  next  thing  to  be  inquired 
after.  It  may  seem  a  wonder  that  ever  men,  that  have  the  use  of 
their  reason,  should  be  so  sottish  as  to  make  light  of  matters  of  such 
consequence.     But  the  cause  is, 

1.  Some  men  understand  not  the  very  sense  of  the  words  of  the 
gospel  when  they  hear  it,  and  how  can  they  be  taken  with  that 
which  they  understand  not  ?  Though  we  speak  to  them  in  plain 
English,  and  study  to  speak  it  as  plain  as  we  can,  yet  people  have 
so  estranged  then:iselves  from  God,  and  the  matters  of  their  own 
happiness,  that  they  know  not  what  we  say,  as  if  we  spoke  in 
another  language,  and  as  if  they  were  under  that  judgment,  Isa. 
xxviii.  11.  "With  stammering  lips,  and  with  another  tongue,  will 
he  speak  to  this  people." 

2.  Some  that  do  understand  the  words  that  we  speak,  yet,  be- 
cause they  are  carnal,  understand  not  the  matter.  For  the  natural 
man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  neither  can  he 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  i')S9 

know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually  discerned;  1  Cor.  ii.  14. 
They  are  earthly,  and  these  things  are  heavenly  ;  John  iii.  12. 
These  things  of  tiie  Spirit  are  not  well  known  by  bare  hearsay, 
but  by  spiritual  taste,  which  none  have  but  those  that  are  taught 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  (1  Cor.  ii.  12.)  that  we  may  know  the  things 
that  are  given  us  of  God. 

3.  A  carnal  mind  apprehendeth  not  a  suitableness  in  these  spir- 
itual and  heavenly  things  to  his  mind,  and  tlierefore  he  sets  light 
by  them,  and  hath  no  mind  of  them.  When  you  tell  him  of  ever- 
lasting glory,  he  heareth  you  as  if  you  were  persuading  him  to  go 
play  with  the  sun  :  they  are  matters  of  another  world,  and  out  of 
his  element ;  and  therefore  he  hath  no  more  delight  in  them  than 
a  fish  would  have  to  be  in  the  fairest  meadow,  or  than  a  swine  hath 
in  a  jewel,  or  a  dog  in  a  piece  of  gold.  They  may  be  good  to 
others,  but  he  cannot  apprehend  them  as  suitable  to  him,  because 
he  hath  a  nature  that  is  otherwise  inclined :  he  savoreth  not  the 
things  of  the  Spirit ;  Rom.  viii.  5. 

4.  The  main  cause  of  the  slighting  of  Christ  and  salvation,  is 
a  secret  root  of  unbelief  in  men's  hearts.  Whatsoever  they  may 
pretend,  they  do  not  soundly  and  thoroughly  believe  the  word  of 
God.  They  are  taught,  in  general,  to  say  the  gospel  is  true  ;  but 
they  never  saw  the  evidence  of  its  tmth  so  far  as  thoroughly  to 
persuade  them  of  it ;  nor  have  they  got  their  souls  settled  on  the 
infallibility  of  God's  testimony,  nor  considered  of  the  truth  of  the 
particular  doctrines  revealed  in  the  Scripture,  so  far  as  soundly  to 
believe  them.  O,  did  you  all  but  soundly  beheve  the  words  of 
this  gospel,  of  the  evil  of  sin,  of  the  need  of  Christ,  and  what  he 
hath  done  for  you,  and  what  you  must  be  and  do  if,  ever  you  will 
be  saved  by  him,  and  what  will  become  of  you  forever  if  you  do 
it  not,  I  dare  say  it  would  cure  the  contempt  of  Christ,  and  you 
would  not  make  so  light  of  the  matters  of  your  salvation.  But 
men  do  not  believe  while  they  say  they  do,  and  would  face  us 
down  that  they  do,  and  verily  think  that  they  do  themselves. 
There  is  a  root  of  bitterness,  and  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  that 
makes  them  depart  from  the  living  God  ;  Heb.  ii.  12.  iv.  1,  2.  6. 
Tell  any  man  in  this  congregation  that  he  sliall  have  a  gift  of  ten 
thousand  pounds,  if  he  will  go  to  London  for  it ;  if  he  believe  you, 
he  will  go ;  but  if  he  believe  not,  he  will  not ;  and  if  he  will  not 
go,  you  may  be  sure  he  believeth  not,  supposing  that  he  is  able. 
I  know  a  slight  belief  may  stand  with  a  wicked  life ;  such  as  men 
have  of  the  truth  of  a  prognostication  ;  it  may  be  true,  and  it  may 
be  false ;  but  a  true  and  sound  belief  is  not  consistent  with  so  great 
neglect  of  the  things  that  are  believed. 

5.  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of  by  the  world,  because 
of  their  desperate  hardness  of  heart.     The  heart  is  hard  natur- 


590  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

ally,  and,  by  custom  in  sinning,  made  more  hard,  especially  by 
long  abuse  of  mercy,  and  neglect  of  the  means  of  grace,  and  re- 
sisting the  Spirit  of  God.  Hence  it  is  that  men  are  turned  into 
such  stones  ;  and  till  God  cure  them  of  the  stone  of  the  heart,  no 
wonder  if  they  feel  not  what  they  know,  or  regard  not  what  we 
say,  but  make  light  of  all :  it  is  hard  preaching  a  stone  into  tears, 
or  making  a  rock  to  tremble.  You  may  stand  over  a  dead  body 
long  enough,  and  say  to  it,  '  O,  thou  carcass,  when  thou  hast  lain 
rotting  and  mouldered  to  dust  till  the  resurrection,  God  will  then 
call  thee  to  account  for  thy  sin,  and  cast  thee  into  everlasting  fire,' 
before  you  can  make  it  feel  what  you  say,  or  fear  the  misery  that 
is  never  so  truly  threatened.  When  men's  hearts  are  like  the 
highway  that  is  trodden  to  hardness  by  long  custom  in  sinning,  or 
like  the  clay  that  is  hardened  to  a  stone  by  the  heat  of  those  mer- 
cies that  should  have  melted  them  into  repentance  ;  when  they 
have  consciences  seared  with  a  hot  iron,  as  the  apostle  speaks,  (1 
Tim.  iv.  2.)  no  wonder,  then,  if  they  be  past  feehng,  and,  work- 
ing all  uncleanness  with  greediness,  do  make  light  of  Christ  and 
everlasting  glory.  O  that  this  were  not  the  case  of  too  many  of 
our  hearers !  Had  we  but  living  souls  to  speak  to,  they  would 
hear,  and  feel,  and  not  make  light  of  what  we  say.  I  know  they 
are  naturally  alive,  but  they  are  spiritually  dead,  as  Scripture  wit- 
nesseth ;  Ephes.  ii.  3.  O,  if  there  were  but  one  spark  of  the 
life  of  grace  in  them,  the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ 
would  appear  to  them  to  be  the  weightiest  business  in  the  world  ! 
O  how  confident  should  1  be,  methinks,  to  prevail  with  men,  and 
to  take  them  off  this  world,  and  bring  them  to  mind  the  matters 
of  another  world,  if  I  spake  but  to  men  that  had  life,  and  sense, 
and  reason  !  But  when  we  speak  to  blocks,  and  dead  men,  how 
should  we  be  regarded  ?  O,  how  sad  a  case  are  these  souls  in, 
that  are  fallen  under  this  fearful  judgment  of  spiritual  madness  and 
deadness  !  To  have  a  blind  mind,  and  a  hard  heart,  to  be  sottish 
and  senseless,  (Mark  iv.  12.  John  xii.  40.)  lest  they  should  be 
converted,  and  their  sin  should  be  forgiven  them ! 

6.  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of  by  the  world,  because 
they  are  wholly  enslaved  to  their  sense,  and  taken  up  with  lower 
things.  The  matters  of  another  world  are  out  of  sight,  and  so  far 
from  their  senses,  that  they  cannot  regard  them ;  but  present  things 
are  nearer  them,  in  their  eyes,  and  in  their  hands.  There  must  be 
a  living  faith  to  prevail  over  sense,  before  men  can  be  so  taken  with 
things  that  are  not  seen,  though  they  have  the  word  of  God  for 
their  security,  as  to  neglect  and  let  go  things  that  are  still  before 
their  eyes.  Sense  works  with  great  advantage,  and  therefore  doth 
much  in  resisting  faith  where  it  is.  No  wonder,  then,  if  it  carry 
all  before  it,  where  there  is  no  true  and  lively  faith  to  resist,  and 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  o9I 

to  lead  the  soul  to  hig-her  things.  This  cause  of  makinu;  lis{ht  of 
Christ  and  salvation  is  expressed  here  in  my  text.  One  went  to 
his  farm,  another  to  his  merchandise.  Men  have  houses  and  lands 
to  look  after:  they  have  wife  and  children  to  mind:  they  have 
their  body  and  outward  estate  to  regard  ;  therefore  they  forget  that 
they  have  a  God,  a  Redeemer,  a  soul  to  mind  :  these  mattefs  of 
the  world  are  still  with  them.  They  see  these,  but  they  see  not 
God,  nor  Christ,  nor  their  souls,  nor  everlasting  glory.  These 
things  are  near  at  hand,  and  therefore  work  naturally,  and  so  work 
forcibly  ;  but  the  other  are  thought  on  as  a  great  way  off,  and 
therefore,  too  distant  to  work  on  their  affections,  or  be  at  the  pres- 
ent so  much  regarded  by  them.  Their  body  hath  life  and  sense, 
therefore  if  they  want  meat,  or  drink,  or  clothes,  will  feel  their 
want,  and  tell  them  of  it,  and  give  them  no  rest  till  their  wants  be 
supplied,  and  therefore  they  cannot  make  light  of  their  bodily  ne- 
cessities; but  their  souls,  in  spiritual  respects,  are  dead,  and  there- 
fore feel  not  their  wants,  but  will  let  them  alone  in  their  greatest 
necessities,  and  be  as  quiet  when  they  are  starved  and  languishing 
to  destruction,  as  if  all  were  well,  and  nothing  ailed  them.  And 
hereupon  poor  people  are  wholly  taken  up  in  providing  for  the 
body,  as  if  they  had  nothing  else  to  mind.  They  have  their  trades 
and  callings  to  follow,  and  so  much  to  do  from  morning  to  night, 
that  they  can  find  no  time  for  matters  of  salvation :  Christ  would 
teach  them,  but  they  have  no  leisure  to  hear  him:  the  Bible  is  be- 
fore them,  but  they  cannot  have  while  to  read  it :  a  minister  is  in 
the  town  with  them,  but  they  cannot  have  whil6  to  go  to  inquire 
of  him  what  they  should  do  to  be  saved.  And  wlien  they  do  hear, 
their  hearts  are  so  full  of  the  world,  and  carried  away  with  these 
lower  matters,  that  they  cannot  mind  the  things  which  they  hear. 
They  are  so  full  of  the  thoughts,  and  desires,  and  cares  of  this  world, 
that  there  is  no  room  to  pour  into  them  the  water  of  life.  The 
cares  of  the  world  do  choke  the  word,  and  make  it  become  un- 
fruitful ;  Matt.  xiii.  22.  Men  cannot  serve  two  masters,  God 
and  mammon  ;  but  they  will  lean  to  the  one,  and  despise  the  other  ; 
Matt.  vi.  24.  He  that  loveth  the  world,  the  love  of  the  Father 
Is  not  in  him;  1  John  ii.  15,  16.  Men  cannot  choose  but  set 
light  by  Christ  and  salvation,  while  they  set  so  much  by  any  thing 
on  earth.  It  is  that  which  Is  highly  esteemed  among  men  that  is 
abominable  in  the  sight  of  God;  Luke  xvi.  15.  O,  this  I?  the 
ruin  of  many  thousand  souls !  It  would  grieve  the  heart  of  any 
honest  Cliristlan  to  see  how  eagerly  this  vain  world  Is  followed 
every  where,  and  how  little  men  set  by  Christ  and  the  world  to 
come  ;  to  compare  the  care  that  men  have  for  the  world,  with 
the  care  of  their  souls ;  and  the  time  that  they  lay  out  on  the 
world  with  that  time  they  lay  out  for  their  salvation  :  to  see  how 


592  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

the  world  fills  their  mouths,  their  hands,  their  houses,  their  hearts, 

and  Christ  hath  little  more  than  a  bare  title  ;  to  come  into  their 
company,  and  hear  no  discourse  but  of  the  world;  to  come  into 
their  houses,  and  hear  and  see  nothing  but  for  the  world,  as  if  this 
world  would  last  forever,  or  would  purchase  them  another.  When 
1  ask  sometimes  the  ministers  of  the  gospel  how  their  labors  suc- 
ceed, they  tell  me,  '  People  continue  still  the  same,  and  give  up 
themselves  wholly  to  the  world ;  so  that  they  mind  not  what  min- 
isters say  to  them,  nor  will  give  any  full  entertainment  to  the  word, 
and  all  because  of  the  deluding  world.'  And  O,  that  too  many 
ministers  themselves  did  not  make  light  of  that  Christ  whom  they 
preach,  being  drawn  away  mih  the  love  of  this  world  !  In  a  word, 
men  of  a  worldly  disposition  do  judge  of  things  according  to  world- 
ly advantages,  therefore  Christ  is  slighted ;  "  He  is  despised  and 
rejected  of  men  ;  they  hide  their  faces  from  him,  and  esteem  him 
not,  as  seeing  no  beauty  or  comeliness  in  him,  that  they  should 
desire  him."     Isai.  liil.  3. 

7.  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of,  because  men  do  not 
soberly  consider  of  the  truth  and  weight  of  these  necessary  things. 
They  suffer  not  their  minds  so  long  to  dwell  upon  them,  till  they 
procure  a  due  esteem,  and  deeply  alFect  their  heart :  did  they  be- 
lieve them,  and  not  consider  of  them,  how  should  they  work  I  O, 
when  men  have  reason  given  them  to  think  and  consider  of  the 
things  that  most  concern  them,  and  yet  they  will  not  use  it,  this 
causeth  their  contempt. 

8.  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of,  because  men  were 
never  sensible  of  their  sin  and  misery,  and  extreme  necessity  of 
Christ  and  his  salvation.  Their  eyes  were  never  opened  to  see 
themselves  as  they  are ;  nor  their  hearts  soundly  humbled  in  the 
sense  of  their  condition.  If  this  were  done,  they  would  soon  be 
brought  to  value  a  Savior :  a  truly  broken  heart  can  no  more  make 
light  of  Christ  and  salvation,  than  a  hungry  man  of  his  food,  or  a 
sick  man  of  the  means  that  would  give  ease ;  but  till  then,  our 
words  cannot  have  access  to  their  hearts.  While  sin  and  misery 
are  made  light  of,  Christ  and  salvation  will  be  made  light  of;  but 
when  these  are  perceived  an  intolerable  burden,  then  nothing  will 
serve  the  turn  but  Christ.  Till  men  be  truly  humbled,  they  can 
venture  Christ  and  salvation  for  a  lust,  for  a  little  worldly  gain, 
even  for  less  than  nothing  ;  but  when  God  hath  illuminated  them, 
and  broken  their  hearts,  then  they  must  have  Christ  or  they  die : 
all  things  then  are  loss  and  dung  to  them,  in  regard  of  the  excellent 
knowledge  of  Christ ;  Phil.  iii.  8.  When  they  are  at  once 
pricked  in  their  hearts  for  sin  and  misery,  then  they  cry  out,  "  Men 
and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do?"  Acts  ii.  37.  When  they  are 
liuidccned  by  God's  judgments,  as  the  poor  jailer,  then  they  cry 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHKIST,  593 

but,  "Sirs,  what  shall  1  do  to  be  saved?"  Acts  xvi.  30.  This 
is  the  reason  why  God  will  bring  men  so  low  by  humiliation,  be- 
fore he  brings  them  to  salvation. 

9.  Men  take  occasion  to  make  light  of  Christ  by  the  common- 
ness of  the  gospel.  Because  they  do  hear  of  it  every  day,  the 
frequency  is  an  occasion  to  dull  their  affections;  I  say,  an  occasion, 
for  it  is  no  just  cause.  Were  it  a  rarity,  it  might  take  more  with 
them ;  but  now,  if  they  hear  a  minister  preach  nothing  but  these 
saving  truths,  they  say,  '  We  have  these  every  day.'  They  make 
not  light  of  their  bread  or  drink,  their  health  or  life,  because  they 
possess  them  every  day :  they  make  not  light  of  the  sun,  because 
it  shineth  every  day ;  at  least  they  should  not,  for  the  mercy  is  the 
greater ;  but  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of,  because  they 
hear  of  them  often.  '  This  is,'  say  they,  '  a  good,  plain,  dry  ser- 
mon.' Pearls  are  trod  in  the  dirt  where  they  are  common :  they 
loathe  this  dry  manna.  "  The  full  soul  loathes  the  honey-comb  ; 
but  to  the  hungry  every  bitter  thing  is  sweet."  Prov.  xxvii.  7. 

10.  Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of,  because  of  this  dis- 
junctive presumption  ;  either  that  he  is  sure  enougli  theirs  already, 
and  God,  that  is  so  merciful,  and  Christ,  that  hath  suffered  so  much 
for  them,  is  surely  resolved  to  save  them,  or  else  it  may  easily  be 
obtained  at  any  time,  if  it  be  not  yet  so.  A  conceited  facility  to 
have  a  part  in  Christ  and  salvation  at  any  time,  doth  occasion  men 
to  make  light  of  them.  It  is  true  that  grace  is  free,  and  the  offer 
is  universal,  according  to  the  extent  of  the  preaching  of  tiie  gos- 
pel ;  and  it  is  true  that  men  may  have  Christ  when  they  will ;  that 
is,  when  they  are  willing  to  have  Jiim  on  his  terms ;  but  he  that 
hath  promised  thee  Christ,  if  thou  be  willing,  hath  not  promised 
to  make  thee  willing ;  and  if  thou  art  not  willing  now,  how  canst 
thou  think  thou  shalt  be  willing  hereafter  ?  If  thou  canst  make 
thine  own  heart  willing,  why  is  it  not  done  now  ?  Can  you  do  it 
better  when  sin  hath  more  hardened  it,  and  God  may  have  given 
thee  over  to  thyself?  O  sinners !  you  might  do  much,  though 
you  are  not  able  of  yourselves  to  come  in,  if  you  would  now  sub- 
ject yourselves  to  the  working  of  the  Spirit,  and  set  in  while  the 
gales  of  grace  continue.  But  did  you  know  what  a  hard  and  im- 
possible thing  it  is  to  be  so  much  as  willing  to  have  Christ  and 
grace,  when  the  heart  is  given  over  to  itself,  and  the  Spirit  hath 
withdrawn  its  former  invitations,  you  would  not  be  so  confident  of 
your  own  strength  to  believe  and  repent ;  nor  would  you  make 
light  of  Christ  upon  such  foolish  confidence.  If  indeed  it  be  so 
easy  a  matter  as  you  imagine,  for  a  sinner  to  believe  and  repent  at 
any  time,  how  comes  it  to  pass  that  it  is  done  by  so  few ;  but  most 
of  the  world  do  perish  in  their  impenitency,  when  they  have  all 
the  helps  and  means  that  we  can  afford  them  ?     It  is  true  the  thing 

VOL.    T.  75 


594  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

is  very  reasonable  and  easy  in  itself  to  a  pure  nature ;  but  while 
man  is  blind  and  dead,  these  things  are  in  a  sort  impossible  to  him, 
wliich  are  never  so  easy  to  others.  It  is  the  easiest  and  sweetest 
life  in  the  v.orld  to  a  gracious  soul  to  live  in  the  love  of  God,  and 
the  delightful  thoughts  of  the  life  to  come,  where  all  their  hope 
and  happiness  lieth ;  but  to  a  worldly,  carnal  heart  it  is  as  easy  to 
remove  a  mountain  as  to  bring  them  to  this.  However,  these  men 
axe  their  ow  n  condemners. ;  for  if  they  think  it  so  easy  a  matter  to 
repent  and  believe,  and  so  to  have  Christ,  and  right  to  salvation, 
then  have  they  no  excuse  for  neglecting  this  which  they  thought 
so  easy.  O  wretched,  impenitent  soul !  what  mean  you  to  say 
when  God  shall  ask  you,  Why  did  you  not  repent,  and  love  your 
Redeemer  above  the  world,  when  you  thought  it  so  easy  that  you 
could  do  it  at  any  time  ? 

IV.  Use  1.  We  come  now  to  the  application  ;  and  hence  you 
may  be  informed  of  the  blindness  and  folly  of  all  carnal  men. 
How  contemptible  are  their  judgments  that  think  Christ  and  sal- 
vation contemptible  !  And  how  little  reason  there  is  why  any 
should  be  moved  by  them,  or  discouraged  by  any  of  their  scorns 
or  contradictions  ! 

How  shall  we  sooner  know  a  man  to  be  a  fool,  than  if  he  know  no 
difterence  between  dung  and  gold !  Is  there  such  a  thing  as  mad- 
ness in  the  world,  if  that  man  be  not  mad  that  sets  light  by  Christ, 
and  his  own  salvation,  while  he  daily  toils  for  the  dung  of  the  earth  ? 
And  yet  what  pity  is  it  to  see  that  a  company  of  poor,  ignorant  souls 
will  be  ashamed  of  godliness,  if  such  men  as  these  do  but  deride 
them !  Or  will  think  hardly  of  a  holy  life,  if  such  as  these  do 
speak  against  it !  Hearers,  if  you  see  any  set  light  by  Christ  and 
salvation,  do  you  set  light  by  that  man's  wit,  and  by  his  words,  and 
hear  tlie  reproaches  of  a  holy  life  as  you  would  hear  the  words 
of  a  madman  ;  not  with  regard,  but  with  a  compassion  of  his  misery. 

Use  2.  What  wonder  if  we  and  our  preaching  be  despised,  and 
the  best  ministers  complain  of  ill  success,  when  the  ministry  of  the 
apostles  themselves  did  succeed  no  better !  What  wonder  if,  for 
all  that  we  can  say  or  do,  our  hearers  still  set  light  by  Christ  and 
their  own  salvation,  when  the  apostles'  hearers  did  the  same  ! 
They  that  did  second  their  doctrine  by  miracles,  if  any  men  could 
have  shaken  and  torn  in  pieces  the  hearts  of  sinners,  they  could 
have  done  it.  if  any  could  have  laid  them  at  their  feet,  and  made 
them  all  cry  out  as  some,  "  What  shall  we  do?"  it  ■would  have 
been  they.  You  may  see,  then,  that  it  is  not  merely  for  want  of 
good  preachers  that  men  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation.  The 
first  news  of  such  a  thing  as  the  pardon  of  sin,  and  the  hopes  of 
glory,  and  the  danger  of  everlasting  misery,  would  turn  the  hearts 
of  men  within  them,  if  they  were  as  tractable  in  spiritual  matters 


MAKINC;     l,I(iHT    OF    CHRKST.  595 

as  In  temporal :  but  alas,  it  is  far  otherwise.  It  must  not  seem  an/ 
strange  thing,  nor  must  it  too  much  discourage  the  preachers  of 
the  gospel,  if  when  they  have  said  all  that  they  can  devise  to  say, 
to  win  the  hearts  of  men  to  Christ,  the  most  do  still  slight  him,  and 
while  they  bow  the  knee  to  him,  and  honor  him  with  their  lips,  do 
yet  set  so  light  by  him  in  their  hearts,  as  to  prefer  every  fleshly 
pleasure  or  conmiodity  before  him.  It  will  be  thus  with  many  : 
let  us  be  ghid  that  it  is  not  thus  with  all. 

Use  3.  But  for  closer  application,  seeing  this  is  the  great  con- 
demning sin,  before  we  inquire  after  it  in  the  hearts  of  our  hearers, 
it  beseems  us  to  begin  at  home,  and  see  that  we,  who  are  preach- 
ers of  the  gospel,  be  not  guilty  of  it  ourselves.  The  Lord  forbid 
that  they  that  have  undertaken  the  sacred  office  of  revealing  the 
excellencies  of  Christ  to  the  world,  should  make  light  of  him  them- 
selves, and  slight  that  salvation  which  they  do  daily  preach.  The 
Lord  knows  we  are  all  of  us  so  low  in  our  estimation  of  Christ,  and 
do  this  great  work  so  negligently,  that  we  b.ave  cause  to  be  asliam- 
ed  of  our  best  sermons  ;  but  should  this  sin  prevail  in  us,  we  were 
the  most  miserable  of  all  men.  Brethren,  I  love  not  censorious- 
ness ;  yet  dare  not  befriend  so  vile  a  sin  in  myself  or  others,  under 
pretense  of  avoiding  it ;  especially  when  there  is  so  great  necessi- 
ty that  it  should  be  healed  first  in  them  that  mdke  it  their  work  to 
heal  it  in  others.  O  that  there  were  no  cause  to  complain  that 
Christ  and  salvation  are  made  light  of  by  the  preachers  of  it ! 
But,  1 .  Do  not  the  negligent  studies  of  some  speak  it  out  ?  2. 
Doth  not  their  dead  and  drowsy  preaching  declare  it  ?  Do  not 
they  make  light  of  the  doctrine  they  preach,  that  do  it  as  if  they 
were  half  asleep,  and  feel  not  what  they  speak  themselves  ? 

3.  Doth  not  the  carelessness  of  some  men's  private  endeavors 
discover  it  ?  What  do  they  for  souls  ?  How  slightly  do  they  re- 
prove sin  !  How  little  do  they,  when  they  are  out  of  the  pulpit, 
for  the  saving  of  men's  souls  ! 

4.  Doth  not  the  continued  neglect  of  those  things  wherein  the 
Interest  of  Christ  consisteth  discover  it  ?  1 .  The  church's  purity 
and  reformation.     2.  Its  unity. 

5.  Doth  not  the  covetous  and  worldly  lives  of  too  many  discov- 
er it,  losing  advantages  for  men's  souls  for  a  little  gain  to  them- 
selves ?  And  most  of  this  is  because  men  arc  preachers  before 
they,  are  Christians,  and  lell  men  of  that  which  they  never  felt 
themselves.  Of  all  men  on  earth,  there  are  few  that  are  in  so  sad 
a  condition  as  such  ministers  ;  and  if  indeed  they  do  believe  that 
Scripture  which  they  preach,  methinks  it  should  he  terrible  to 
them  in  their  studying  and  preaching  it. 

Use  4.  Beloved  hearers,  the  office  that  God  hath  called  us  to, 
is  by  declaring  the  glory  of  his  grace,  to  help  under  Christ  to  th« 


o9G  MAKING    MGHT    OV    CHRIST. 

saving  of  men's  souls.  I  hope  you  think  not  that  1  come  hither 
to-day  on  any  other  errand.  The  Lord  knows  I  had  not  set  a 
foot  out  of  doors  but  in  hope  to  succeed  in  this  work  for  your  souls. 
I  have  considered,  and  often  considered,  What  is  the  matter  that 
so  many  thousands  should  perish  when  God  hath  done  so  much 
for  their  salvation  ?  and  I  find  this  that  is  mentioned  in  my  text  is 
the  cause.  It  is  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  that  when  God 
hath  so  loved  the  world  as  to  send  his  Son,  and  Christ  hath  made 
a  satisfaction  by  his  death  sufficient  for  them  all,  and  ofFereth  the 
benefits  of  it  so  freely  to  tliem,  even  without  money  or  price,  that 
yet  the  most  of  the  world  should  perish;  yea,  the  most  of  those 
that  are  thus  called  by  his  word  !  Why,  here  is  the  reason  :  when 
Christ  hath  done  all  this,  men  make  light  of  it.  God  hath  show- 
ed that  he  is  not  unwilling  that  men  should  be  restored  to  God's 
favor  and  be  saved ;  but  men  are  actually  unwilling  themselves. 
God  takes  not  pleasure  in  the  death  of  sinners,  but  rather  that  they 
return  and  live.  (Ezek.  xxxiii.  11.)  But  men  take  such  pleas- 
ure in  sin,  that  they  will  die  before  they  will  return.  The  Lord 
Jesus  was  content  to  be  their  physician,  and  hath  provided  them 
a  sufficient  plaster  of  his  own  blood;  but  if  men  make  light  of  it, 
and  will  not  apply  it,  what  wonder  if  they  perish  after  all !  This, 
Scripture  giveth  as 'the  reason  of  their  perdition.  This,  sad  expe- 
rience tells  us,  the  most  of  the  world  is  guilty  of  It  is  a  most  lam- 
entable thing  to  see  how  most  men  do  spend  their  care,  their 
time,  their  pains,  for  known  vanities,  while  God  and  glory  are  cast 
aside  :  that  he  who  is  all  should  seem  to  them  as  nothing ;  and  that 
which  is  nothing  should  seem  to  them  as  good  as  all :  that  God 
should  set  mankind  in  such  a  race  where  heaven  or  hell  is  their 
certain  end,  and  that  they  should  sit  down,  and  loiter,  or  loin  after 
the  childish  toys  of  the  world,  and  so  much  forget  the  prize  that 
they  should  run  for.  Were  it  but  possible  for  one  of  us  to  see  the 
whole  of  this  business,  as  the  All-seeing  God  doth;  to  see  at  one 
view  both  heaven  and  hell,  which  men  are  so  near;  and  see  what 
most  men  in  the  world  are  minding,  and  what  they  are  doing  every 
day,  it  would  be  the  saddest  sight  that  could  be  imagined.  O, 
how  should  we  marvel  at  their  madness,  and  lament  their  self-delu- 
sion !  O,  poor  distracted  world!  w^hat  is  it  you  run  after?  and 
what  is  it  that  you  neglect  ?  If  God  had  never  told  them  what  they 
were  sent  into  the  world  to  do,  or  whither  they  were  going,  or 
what  was  before  them  in  another  world,  then  they  had  been  ex- 
cusable ;  but  he  hath  told  them  over  and  over  till  they  were  wea- 
ry of  it.  Had  he  left  it  doubtful,  there  had  been  some  excuse; 
but  it  is  his  sealed  word,  and  they  profess  to  believe  it,  and  would 
take  it  ill  of  us  if  we  should  question  whether  they  do  believe  it 
or  not. 


MAKING    LIGHT    OK    CHRIST.  597 

Beloved,  1  come  not  to  accuse  any  of  you  particularly  of  this 
crime  ;  but  seeing  it  is  the  commonest  cause  of  men's  destruction^ 
I  suppose  you  will  judge  it  the  fittest  matter  for  our  inquiry,  and 
deserving  our  greatest  care  for  the  cure.  To  \vhi(;h  end  1  shall, 
i.  Endeavor  the  conviction  of  the  guilty,  ii.  Sliall  give  them 
such  considerations  as  may  tend  to  humble  and  reform  them.  iii. 
I  shall  conclude  with  such  direction  as  may  help  them  that  are 
willing  to  escape  the  destroying  power  of  this  sin.  And  for  the 
first,  consider, 

i.  It  is  the  case  of  most  sinners  to  think  themselves  freest  from 
those  sins  that  they  are  most  enslaved  to ;  and  one  reason  why  we 
cannot  reform  them,  is  because  we  cannot  convince  them  of  their 
guilt.  It  is  the  nature  of  sin  so  far  to  blind  and  befool  the  sinner, 
that  he  knoweth  not  what  he  doth,  but  thinketh  he  is  free  from  it 
when  it  reigneth  in  him,  or  when  he  is  committing  it.  It  bringeth 
men  to  be  so  much  unacquainted  with  themselves,  that  they  know 
not  what  they  think,  or  what  they  mean  and  intend,  nor  what  they 
love  or  hate,  much  less  what  they  are  habituated  and  disposed  to. 
They  are  alive  to  sin,  and  dead  to  all  the  reason,  consideration, 
and  resolution  that  should  recover  them,  as  if  it  were  only  by  their 
sinning  that  we  must  know  they  are  alive.  May  I  hope  that  you 
that  hear  me  to-day  are  but  willing  to  know  the  truth  of  your  case, 
and  then  I  shall  be  encouraged  to  proceed  to  an  inquiry.  God  wall 
judge  impartially  :  why  should  not  we  do  so  ?  Let  me,  therefore, 
by  these  following  questions,  try  whetlipr  none  of  you  are  slighters 
of  Christ  and  your  own  salvation.  And  follow^  me,  I  beseech 
you,  by  putting  them  close  to  your  own  hearts,  and  faithfully  an- 
swering them. 

1 .  Things  that  men  highly  value  will  be  remembered ;  they 
will  be  matter  of  their  freest  and  sweetest  thoughts. 

Do  not  those,  then,  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation  that  think 
of  them  so  seldom  and  coldly  in  comparison  of  other  things  ?  Fol- 
low thy  own  heart,  man,  and  observe  what  it  daily  runneth  out 
after  ;  and  then  judge  whether  it  make  not  light  of  Christ. 

We  cannot  persuade  men  to  one  hour's  sober  -"onsideration  what 
they  should  do  for  an  interest  in  Christ,  or  in  thankfulness  for  his 
love,  and  yet  they  will  not  believe  that  they  make  light  of  him. 

2.  Things  that  we  highly  value  will  be  matter  of  our  discourse  ; 
the  judgment  and  heart  will  command  the  tongue.  Freely  and 
delightfully  will  our  speech  run  after  them. 

Do  not  those,  then,  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation,  that  shun 
tlie  mention  of  his  name,  unless  it  be  in  a  vain  or  sinful  use  ?  those 
that  love  not  the  company  where  Christ  and  salvation  is  much 
talked  of,  but  think  it  troublesome,  precise  discourse ;  that  had 


o9S  MAKINU    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

rather  hear  some  merry  jests,  or  idle  tales,  or  talk  of  their  riches  or 
business  in  the  world?  when  you  may  follow  them  from  morn- 
ing to  night,  and  scarce  have  a  savory  word  of  Christ ;  but  per- 
haps some  slight  and  weary  mention  of  him  sometimes  ;  judge 
whether  these  make  not  light  of  Christ  and  salvation.  How  se- 
riously do  they  talk  of  the  world?  (Psal.  cxliv.  8.  11.)  and  speak 
vanity  !  But  how  heartlessly  do  they  make  mention  of  Christ 
and  salvation ! 

3.  The  things  that  we  highly  value  we  would  secure  the  posses- 
sion of,  and  therefore  would  take  any  convenient  course  to  have 
all  doubts  and  fears  about  them  well  resolved.  Do  not  those  men, 
then,  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation,  that  have  lived  twenty  or 
thirty  years  in  uncertainty  whether  they  have  any  part  in  these  or 
not,  and  yet  never  seek  out  for  the  right  resolution  of  their  doubts  ? 
Are  all  that  hear  me  this  day  certain  they  shall  be  saved  ?  O 
that  they  were  !  O,  had  you  not  made  light  of  salvation,  you 
could  not  so  easily  bear  such  doubtings  of  it ;  you  could  not  rest 
till  you  had  made  it  sure,  or  done  your  best  to  make  it  sure. 
Have  you  nobody  to  inquire  of  that  might  help  you  in  such  a 
work  ?  Why,  you  have  ministers  that  are  purposely  appointed  to 
that  office.  Have  you  gone  to  them  and  told  them  the  doubtful- 
ness of  your  case,  and  asked  their  help  in  the  judging  of  your  con- 
dition ?  Alas  !  ministers  may  sit  in  their  studies  from  one  year  to 
another,  before  ten  persons  among  one  thousand  will  come  to  them 
on  such  an  errand  !  Do  ni)t  these  make  light  of  Christ  and  salva- 
tion ?  Wlien  the  gospel  pierceth  the  heart  indeed,  they  cry  out, 
"Men  and  brethren,  what  shall  we  do  to  be  saved?"  Acts  xvi. 
30.  ix.  6.  Trembling  and  astonished,  Paul  cries  out,  "  Lord, 
what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do? "  And  so  did  the  convinced  Jews 
to  Peter;  Acts  ii.  37.     But  when  hear  we  such  questions? 

4.  The  things  that  we  value  do  deeply  affect  us,  and  some  mo- 
tions will  be  in  the  heart  according  to  our  estimation  of  them.     O, 
sirs,  if  men  made  not  light  of  these  things,  what  workings  would 
there  be  in  the  hearts  of  all  our  hearers  !     What  strange  affections 
would  it  raise  in  them  to  hear  of  the  matters  of  the  world  to  come 
How  would  their  hearts  melt  before  the  power  of  the  gospel 
What  sorrow  would  be  wrought  in  the  discovery  of  their  sins 
What  astonishment  at  the  consideration  of  their  misery !     What 
unspeakable  joy  at  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  by  the  blood  of 
Christ !     What  resolution  would  be  raised  in  them  upon  the  dis- 
covery of  their  duty  !     O,  what  hearers  should  we  have,  if  it  were 
not  for  this  sin  !     Whereas  now  we  are  more  likely  to  weary  them, 
or  preach  them  asleep  with  matters  of  this  unspeakable  moment. 
We  talk  to  them  of  Christ  and  salvatioi^  till  we  make  their  heads 


MAKING    LIGHT    OK    CHRIST.  599 

ache  :  little  would  one  think,  by  their  careless  carriage,  that  they 
heard  and  regarded  what  we  said,  or  thought  we  spoke  at  all  to 
them. 

5.  Our  estimation  of  things  will  be  seen  in  the  diligence  of  our 
endeavors.  That  which  we  most  highly  value,  we  shall  think  no 
pains  too  great  to  obtain.  Do  not  those  men  then  make  light  of 
Christ  and  salvation,  that  think  all  too  much  that  they  do  for  them  ? 
that  murmur  at  his  service,  and  think  it  too  grievous  for  them  to 
endure  ?  That  ask  of  his  service  as  Judas  of  the  ointment,  '  What 
need  this  waste  ?  Cannot  men  be  saved  without  so  much  ado? 
This  is  more  ado  than  needs.'  For  the  world  they  will  labor  all 
the  day,  and  all  their  lives;  but  for  Christ  and  salvation  they  are 
afraid  of  doing  too  mucli.  Let  us  preach  to  them  as  long  as  we 
will,  we  cannot  bring  them  to  relish  or  resolve  upon  a  life  of  holi- 
ness. Follow  them  to  their  houses,  and  you  shall  not  hear  them 
read  a  chapter,  nor  call  upon  God  with  their  families  once  a  day ; 
nor  will  they  allow  him  that  one  day  In  seven  which  he  hath  sepa- 
rated to  his  service.  But  pleasure,  or  worldly  business,  or  idleness^ 
must  have  a  part.  And  many  of  them  are  so  far  hardened  as  to 
reproach  them  that  will  not  be  as  mad  as  themselves.  And  is  not 
Christ  worth  the  seeking  ?  Is  not  everlasting  salvation  worth 
more  than  all  this  ?  Doth  not  that  soul  make  light  of  all  these, 
that  thinks  his  ease  more  worth  than  they  ?  Let  but  common 
sense  judge. 

6.  Tliat  which  we  most  highly  value,  we  think  we  cannot  buy 
too  dear :  Christ  and  salvation  are  freely  given,  and  yet  the  most 
of  men  go  without  them,  because  they  cannot  enjoy  the  world  and 
them  together.  Tliey  are  called  but  to  part  with  that  which  would 
hinder  them  from  Christ,  and  they  will  not  do  it.  They  are  call- 
ed but  to  give  God  his  own,  and  to  resign  all  to  his  will,  and  let  go 
the  profits  and  pleasures  of  this  world,  when  they  must  let  go  either 
Chi'ist  or  them,  and  they  will  not.  They  think  this  too  dear  a 
bargain,  and  say  they  cannot  spare  these  things :  they  must  hold 
their  credit  with  men  ;  they  must  look  to  their  estates  :  how  shall 
they  live  else  ?  They  must  have  their  pleasure,  whatsoever  be- 
comes of  Christ  and  salvation  ;  as  if  they  could  live  without  Christ 
better  thau  without  these  ;  as  if  they  were  afraid  of  being  losers  by 
Christ,  or  could  make  a  saving  match  by  losing  their  souls  to  gain 
the  woild.  Christ  hath  told  us,  over  and  over,  that  if  we  will  not 
forsake  all  for  him  we  cannot  be  his  disciples  ;  Matt.  x.  Far  are 
these  men  from  forsaking  all,  and  yet  will  needs  think  that  they 
are  his  disciples  indeed. 

7.  That  which  men  highly  esteem,  they  would  help  their  friends 
to  as  well  as  themselves.  Do  not  those  men  make  light  of  Christ 
and  salvation,  that  can  take  so  much  care  to  leave  their  children 


600  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

portions  in  the  world,  and  do  so  little  to  help  them  to  heaven  ?  That 
provide  outwRrd  necessaries  so  carefully  for  their  families,  but  do 
so  little  to  the  saving  of  their  souls  ?  Their  neglected  children 
and  friends  will  witness  that  either  Christ  or  their  children's  souls, 
or  both,  were  made  light  of. 

8.  That  which  men  highly  esteem,  they  will  so  diligently  seek 
after,  that  you  may  see  it  in  the  success,  if  it  be  a  matter  within 
their  reach.  You  may  see  how  many  make  light  of  Christ,  by 
the  little  knowledge  they  have  of  him,  and  the  little  com.munion 
with  him,  and  communication  from  him ;  and  the  little,  yea,  none 
of  his  special  grace  in  them.  Alas !  how  many  ministers  can 
speak  it,  to  the  sorrow  of  their  hearts,  that  many  of  their  people 
know  almost  nothing  of  Christ-,  thougli  they  hear  of  him  daily ; 
nor  know  they  what  they  must  do  to  be  saved  !  If  we  ask  them 
an  account  of  these  things,  they  answer  as  if  they  understood  not 
what  we  say  to  them,  and  tell  us  they  are  no  scholars,  and  therefore 
think  they  are  excusable  for  their  ignorance.  O,  if  these  men  had 
not  made  light  of  Christ,  and  their  salvation,  but  had  bestowed  but 
half  so  much  pains  to  know  and  enjoy  him,  as  they  have  done  to 
understand  the  matters  of  their  trades  and  callings  in  the  world, 
they  would  not  have  been  so  ignorant  as  they  are.  They  make 
light  of  these  things,  and  therefore  will  not  be  at  the  pains  to  study 
or  learn  them.  When  men  that  can  learn  the  hardest  trade  in  a 
few  years,  have  not  learned  a  catechism,  nor  how  to  understand 
their  creed,  under  twenty  or  thirty  years'  preaching,  nor  cannot 
abide  to  be  questioned  about  such  things,  doth  not  this  show  that 
they  have  slighted  them  in  their  hearts  ?  How  will  these  despis- 
ers  of  Christ  and  salvation  be  able  one  day  to  look  him  in  the  face, 
and  to  give  an  account  of  these  neglects  ? 

ii.  Thus  much  I  have  spoken  in  order  to  your  conviction.  Do 
not  some  of  your  consciences  by  this  time  smite  you,  and  say,  '  1 
am  the  man  that  have  made  light  of  my  salvation  ? '  If  they  do 
not,  it  is  because  you  make  light  of  it  still,  for  all  that  is  said  to 
you.  But  because,  if  it  be  the  will  of  the  Lord,  I  would  fain 
have  this  damning  distempet-  cured,  and  am  loath  to  leave  you  in 
such  a  desperate  condition,  if  I  knew  how  to  remedy  it,  I  will  give 
you  some  considerations,  which  may  move  you,  if  you  be  men  of 
reason  and  understanding,  to  look  better  about  you ;  and  I  beseech 
you  to  weigh  them,  and  make  use  of  them  as  we  go,  and  lay  open 
your  hearts  to  the  work  of  grace,  and  sadly  bethink  you  what  a 
case  you  are  in,  if  you  prove  such  as  make  light  of  Christ. 

Consider,  1 .  Thou  makest  light  of  him  that  made  not  light  of 
thee,  who  didst  deserve  it.  Thou  wast  worthy  of  nothing  but  con- 
tempt. As  a  man,  what  art  thou  but  a  worm  to  God  ?  As  a  sin- 
ner, ihcu  art  far  viler  than  a  toad.     Yet  Christ  was  so  far  from 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  COl 

making  light  of  thee  and  thy  happiness,  that  he  camedoun  into  the 
flesh,  and  livx^d  a  life  of  suffering,  and  offered  himself  a  sacrifice  to 
the  justice  which  thou  hadst  provoked  ;  that  thy  miserable  soul  miglit 
have  a  remedy.  It  is  no  less  than  miracles  of  love  and  mercy,  that 
he  hath  showed  to  us ;  and  yet  shall  we  slight  them  after  all  ? 

Angels  admire  them,  whom  they  less  concern,  (1  Pet.  i.  12.) 
and  shall  redeemed  sinners  make  light  of  them  ?  What  barbarous, 
yea,  devilish,  yea,  worse  than  devilish,  ingratitude  is  this !  The 
devils  never  had  a  Savior  offered  them,  but  thou  hast ;  and  dost 
thou  yet  make  light  of  him  ? 

2.  Consider,  the  work  of  man's  salvation  by  .Jesus  Christ  is  the 
masterpiece  of  all  the  works  of  God,  wherein  he  would  have  his 
love  and  mercy  to  be  magnified.  As  the  creation  declareth  his 
goodness  and  power,  so  doth  redemption  his  goodness  and  mercy : 
he  hath  contrived  the  very  frame  of  his  worship,  so  that  it  shall 
much  consist  in  the  magnifying  of  this  work  ;  and  after  all  this,  will 
you  make  light  of  it  ?  "  His  name  is  w-onderful ;  "  Isa.  ix.  6. 
"  He  did  the- work  that  none  could  do  ;  "  John  xv.  24.  "  Great- 
er loVe  could  none  show  than  his  ; ''  John  xv.  13.  How  great 
was  the  evil  and  rnisery  that  he  delivered  us  from  !  The  good 
procured  for  us  !  AH  are  wonders,  from  his  birth  to  his  ascension, 
from  our  new  birth  to  our  glorification,  all  are  wonders  of  matchless 
mercy ;  and  yet  do  you  make  light  of  them  ? 

3.  You  make  light  of  matters  of  greatest  excellency  and  mo- 
ment in  the  world.  You  know  not  what  it  is  that  you  slight.  Had 
you  well  known,  you  could  not  have  done  it.  As  Christ  said  to 
the  woman  of  Samaria,  (John  iv.  JO.)  Hadst  thou  known  who  it 
is  that  speaketh  to  thee,  thou  wouldst  have  asked  of  him  the  waters 
of  Ufe.  Had  they  known,  they  would  not  have  crucified  the  Lord 
of  glory;  1  Cor.  ii.  8.  So,  had  you  known  what  Christ  is,  you 
would  not  have  made  light  of  him;  had  you  been  one  day  in 
heaven,  and  but  seen  what  they  ))ossess,  and  seen  also  what  mis- 
erable souls  must  endure  that  arc  shut  out,  you  would  never,  sure, 
have  made  so  light  of  Christ  again. 

O,  sirs,  it  is  no  trifles  or  jesting  matters  that  the  gospel  speaks 
of.  I  must  needs  profess  to  you,  that  when-I  have- the  most  seri- 
ous thoughts  of  these  things  myself,  I  am  ready  to  marvel  that 
such  amazing  matters  do  not  overw^helm  the  souls  of  men  ;  that 
the  greatness  of  the  subject  doth  not  so  overmatch  our  understand- 
ings and  affections,  as  even  to  drive  men  beside  themselves,  but 
that  God  hath  always  somewhat  allayed  it  by  the  distance;  much 
more  that  men  should  be  so  blockish  as  to  make  light  of  them. 
O  Lord,  that  men  did  but  know  what  everlasting  glory  and  ever- 
lasting torments  are !  Would  they  then  hear  us  as  they  do  ? 
Would  they  read  and  think  of  these  things  as  they  do  ?  I  }>rofess  1 
VOL.  I.  76 


^-■ 


602  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

have  been,ready  to  wonder,  when  I  have  heard  Such  weighty  things 
dehvered,  how  people  can  forbear  crying  out  in  the  congregation; 
much  more  how  they  can  rest  till  they  have  gone  to  their  minis- 
ters, and  learned  what  they  should  do  to  be  saved,  that  this  great 
business  might  be  put  out  of  doubt.  O,  that  heaven  and  hell 
should  work  no  more  on  men !  O,  that  everlastingness  should 
work  no  more  !  O,  how  can  you  forbear,  when  you  are  alone,  to' 
think  with  yourselves  what  it.  is  to  be  everlastingly  in  joy,  or  in 
torment !  I  wonder  that  such  thoughts  do  not  break  your  sleep  ; 
and  that  they  come  not  in  your  mind  when  you  are  about  your 
labor !  I  wonder  how  you  can  almost  do  any  thing  else  !  How 
you  can  have  any  quietness  in  your  minds !  How  you  can  eat, 
or  drink,  or  rest,  till  you  have  got  some  ground  of  everlasting  con- 
solations !  Is  that  a  man,  or  a  corpse,  that  is  not  affected  with 
matters  of  this  moment?  that  can  be  readier  to  sleep  than  to  trem- 
ble, when  he  heareth  how  he  must  stand  at  the  bar  of  God  ?  Is 
that  a  man,  or  a  clod  of  clay,  that  can  rise  and  lie  down  without 
being  deeply  affected  with  his  everlasting  estate  ?  that  can  follow 
his  worldly  business,  and  make  nothing  of  the  great  business  of 
salvation  or  damnation  ;  and  that  when  they  know  it  is  hard  at 
hand  ?  Truly,  sirs,  when  I  think  of  the  weight  of  the  matter,  I 
wonder  at  the  very  best  of  God's  saints  upon  earth,  that  they  are 
no  better,  and  do  no  more  in  so  weighty  a  case.  I  wonder  at  those 
whom  the  world  accounteth  more  holy  than  needs,  and  scorns  for 
making  too  much  ado,  that  they  can  put  off  Christ  and  their  souls 
with  so  httle  ;  that  they  pour  not  out  their  souls  in  every  suppli- 
cation ;  that  they  are  not  more  taken  up  with  God;  that  their 
thoughts  be  not  more  serious  in  preparation  for  their  account.  I 
wonder  that  they  be  not  a  hundred  times  more  strict  in  their  lives, 
and  more  laborious  and  unwearied  in  striving  for  the  crown  than 
they  are.  And  for  myself,  as  I  am  ashamed  of  my  dull  and  care- 
less heart,  and  of  my  slow  and  unprofitable  course  of  Hfe,  so  the 
Lord  knows  I  am  ashamed  of  every  sermon  that  I  preach.  When 
I  think  what  I  have  been  speaking  of,  and  who  sent  rne,  and  that 
men's  salvation  or  damnation  is  so  much  concerned  in  it,  I  am 
ready  to  tremble,  lest  God  should  judge  me  as  a  slighter  of  his 
truth,  and  the  souls  of  men,  and  lest,  in  the  best  sermon,  I  should 
be  guilty  of  their  blood.  Methiuks  we  should  not  speak  a  word 
to  men  in  matters  of  such  consequence  without  tears,  or  the  great- 
est earnestness  that  possibly  we  can.  Were  not  we  too  much 
guilty  of  the  sin  which  we  reprove;  it  would  be  so.  Wliether 
v.e  are  alone,  or  in  company,  methinks  our  end,  and  such  an  end, 
should  be  still  in  our  mind,  and  as  before  our  eyes  ;  and  we  should 
sooner  forget  any  thing,  and  set  light  by  any  thing,  or  by  all  things, 
than  })y  tliis. 

Cuusidcr.  I.  Who  is  ii  th;it  sends  this  weighty  message  to  you: 


ilAKlNU    LICHT    OF    CHR1»T.  603 

Is  it  not  God  himself?  Shall  the  God  of  heaven  speak,  and  men 
make  light  of  it?  You  would  not  slight  the  voice  of  an  angel,  or 
a  prince. 

5.  Whose  salvation  is  it  that  you  make  light  of?  Is  it  not  your 
own  ?  Are  you  no  more  near  or  dear  to  yourselves  than  to  make 
light  of  your  own  happiness  or  misery  ?  Why,  sirs,  do  you  not 
care  whether  you  be  saved  or  damned?  Is  self-love  lost?  Are 
you  turned  your  own  enemies  ?  As  he  that  slighteth  his  meat 
doth  slight  his  life ;  so  if  you  slight  Christ,  whatsoever  you  may 
think,  you  will  find  it  was  your  own  salvation  that  you  slighted. 
Hear  what  he  saith  :  "  All  they  that  hate  me  love  death  ;"  Prov. 
viii.  36. 

6.  Your  sin  is  greater,  in  that  you  profess  to  believe  the  gospel 
which  you  make  so  light  of.  For  a  professed  infidel  to  do  it,  that 
believes  not  that  ever  Christ  died,  or  rose  again  ;  or  doth  not  be- 
lieve that  there  is  a  heaven  or  hell,  this  were  no  such  marvel  ;  but 
for  you  that  make  it  your  creed,  and  your  very  religion,  and  call 
yourselves  Christians,  and  have  been  baptized  into  this  faith,  and 
seemed  to  stand  to  it,  this  is  the  wonder,  and  hath  no  excuse. 
What !  believe  that  you  shall  live  in  endless  joy  or  torment,  and 
yet  make  no  more  of  it  to  escape  torment,  and  obtain  that  joy  ! 
What  !  believe  that  God  will  shortly  judge  you  ;  and  yet  make  no 
more  preparation  for  it !  Either  say  plainly,  '  I  am  no  Christian ; 
I  do  not  believe  these  wonderful  things ;  I  will  believe  nothing  but 
what  I  see  ; '  or  else  let  your  hearts  be  affected  with  your  belief, 
and  live  as  you  say  you  do  believe.  What  do  you  think  when 
you  repeat  the  creed,  and  mention  Christ's  judgment  and  ever- 
lasting life  ? 

7.  What  are  these  things  you  set  so  much  by,  as  to  prefer  them 
before  Christ  and  the  saving  of  your  souls  ?  Have  you  found  a 
better  friend,  a  greater  and  surer  happiness  than  this  ?  Good 
Lord  !  What  dung  is  it  that  men  make  so  much  of,  while  they  set 
so  light  by  everlasting  glory  !  What  toys  are  they  that  they  are 
daily  taken  up  with,  while  matters  of  life  and  death  are  neglected ! 
Why,  sirs,  if  you  had  every  one  a  kingdom  in  your  hopes,  what 
were  it  in  comparison  of  the.  everlasting  kingdom  ?  1  cannot 
])ut  look  upon  all  the  glory  and  dignity  of  this  world,  lands  and 
lordships,  crowns  and  kingdoms,  even  as  on  some  brain-sick,  beg- 
garly fellow,  that  borroweth  fine  clothes,  and  plays  the  part  of  a 
king  or  a  lord  for  an  hour  on  a  stage,  and  then  comes  down,  and 
the  sport  is  ended,  and  they  are  beggars  again.  Were  it  not  for 
God's  interest  in  the  authority  of  magistrates,  or  for  the  service 
they  might  do  him,  I  should  judge  no  better  of  them.  For  as  to 
their  own  glory  it  is  but  a  smoke :  what  matter  is  it  whether  you 
live  poor  or  rich  imless  it  were  a  greater  matter  t,o  die  rich  than  it  is  ? 


G04  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

You  know  well  enough  that  death  levels  all.  What  matter  is  it  at 
judgment,  whether  you  be  to  answer  for  the  hfe  of  a  rich  man  or 
a  poor  man  ?  Is  Dives  then  any  better  than  Lazarus  ?  O  that 
men  knew  what  a  poor,  deceiving  shadow  they  grasp  at,  while  they 
let  go  the  everlasting  substance  !  The  strongest,  and  richest,  and 
most  voluptuous  sinners,  do  but  lay  in  fuel  for  their  sorrows,  while 
they  think  they  are  gathering  together  a  treasure.  Alas  !  they  are 
asleep,  and  dream  that  they  are  happy  ;  but  v^'hen  they  awake  what 
a  change  will  they  find  !  Their  crown  is  made  of  thorns  :  their 
pleasure  hath  such  a  sting  as  will  stick  in  the  heart  through  all  eter 
nity,  except  unfeigned  repentance  do  prevent  it.  O,  how  sadly 
will  these  wretches  be  convinced,  ere  long,  what  a  foolish  bargain 
they  made  in  selling  Christ  and  their  salvation  for  these  trifles  ! 
Let  your  farms  and  merchandise  then  save  you  if  they  can ;  and 
do  that  for  you  that  Christ  would  have  done.  Cry  then  to  thy  Baal 
to  save  thee  !  O,  what  thoughts  have  drunkards  and  adulterers, 
&c.  of  Christ,  that  will  not  part  with  the  basest  lust  for  him  ! 
"  For  a  piece  of  bread,"  saith  Solomon,  "  such  men  do  trans- 
gress;" Prov.  xxviii.  21. 

8.  To  set  so  light  by  Christ  and  salvation  is  a  certain  mark  that 
thou  hast  no  part  in  them,  and,  if  thou  so  continue,  that  Christ  will 
set  as  light  by  thee.  "  Those  that  honor  him  he  will  honor,  and 
those  that  despise  him  shall  be  lightly  esteemed  ; "  1  Sam.  ii.  30. 
Thou  wilt  feel  one  day  that  thou  canst  not  live  without  him.  Thou 
wilt  confess  then  thy  need  of  him  ;  and  then  thou  mayst  go  look 
for  a  Savior  where  thou  wilt ;  for  he  will  be  no  Savior  for  thee 
hereafter,  that  wouldst  not  value  him,' and  submit  to  him  here. 
Then  who  will  prove  the  loser  by  thy  contempt  ?  O,  what  a  thing 
will  it  be  for  a  poor,  miserable  soul  to  cry  to  Christ  for  help  in  the 
day  of  extremity,  and  to  hear  so  sad  an  answer  as  this  !  Thou 
didst  set  light  by  me  and  my  law  in  the  day  of  thy  prosperity,  and 
I  will  now  set  as  light  by  thee  in  thy  adversity.  (Read  Prov.  i. 
24.  to  the  end.)  Thou  that,  as  Esau,  didst  sell  thy  birthright  for  a 
mess  of  pottage,  shalt  then  find  no  place  for  repentance,  though 
thou  seek  it  with  tears  ;  Heb.  xii.  17.  Do  you  think  that 
Christ  shed  his  blood  to  save  them  that  continue  to  make  light  of 
it  ?  And  to  save  them  that  value  a  cup  of  drink  or  a  lust  before 
his  salvation  ?  I  tell  you,  sirs,  though  you  set  light  by  Christ  and 
salvation,  God  doth  not  so:  he  will  not  give  them  on  such  terms 
as  these  :  he  valueth  the  blood  of  his.  Son,  and  the  everlasting 
glory  ;  and  he  will  make  you  value  them  if  ever  you  have  them. 
Nay,  this  will  be  thy  condemnation,  and  leaveth  no  remedy.  All 
the  world  cannot  save  him  that  sets  light  by  Christ ;  Heb.  ii.  3. 
Luke  xiv.  24.  None  of  them  shall  taste  of  his  supper ;  Matt. 
X.  37.     Nor   can  you  blame  him  to  deny  you  what  you  made 


MAKING    1.U;HT    OF    CHRIST.  ()()5 

light  of  yourselves.     Can  you  find  fault  if  you  miss  of  the  salva- 
tion which  you  slighted  ? 

9.  The  time  is  near  when  Christ  and  salvation  will  not  be  made 
light  of  as  now  they  are.  When  God  hath  shaken  those  careless 
souls  out  of  their  bodies,  and  you  must  answer  for  all  your  sins  in 
your  own  name,  O,  then  what  would  you  give  for  a  Savior  1 
When  a  thousand  bills  shall  be  brought  in  against  you,  and  none  to 
relieve  you,  then  you  will  consider,  '  O,  Christ  would  now  have 
stood  between  me  and  the  wrath  of  God :  had  I  not  despised  him, 
he  would  have  answered  all.'  When  you  see  the  world  hath  left 
you,  and  your  companions  in  sin  have  deceived  themselves  and 
you,  and  all  your  merry  days  are  gone,  then  Av'hat  would  you  give 
for  that  Christ  and  salvation  that  now  you  account  not  worth  your 
labor  ?  Do  you  think,  when  you  see  the  judgment  set,  and  you 
are  doomed  to  everlasting  perdition  for  your  wickedness,  that  you 
should  then  make  as  light  of  Christ  as  now  ?  Why  will  you  not 
judge  now,  as  you  know  you  shall  judge  then  ?  Will  he  then  be 
worth  ten  thousand  worlds,  and  is  he  not  now  worth  your  highest 
estimation,  and  dearest  atFection  ? 

10.  God  will  not  only  deny  thee  that  salvation  thou  madest  light 
of,  but  he  wall  take  from  thee  all  that  which  thou  didst  value  before 
it.  He  that  most  highly  esteems  Christ  shall  have  him,  and  the 
creatures  so  far  as  they  are  good  here,  and  him  without  the  crea- 
ture hereafter,  because  the  creature  is  not  useful  ;  and  he  that  sets 
more  by  the  creature  than  by  Christ,  shall  have  some  of  the 
creature  without  Christ  here,  and  neither  Christ  nor  it  hereafter. 

So  much  of  these  considerations,  which  may  show^  the  true  face 
of  this  heinous  sin. 

What  think  you  now,  friends,  of  this  business?  Do  you  not 
see  by  this  time  what  a  case  that  soul  is  in,  that  maketh  light  of 
Christ  and  salvation  ?  What  need  then  is  there  that  you  should 
take  heed  lest  this  should  prove  your  own  case  !  The  Lord  knows 
it  is  too  common  a  case.  Whoever  is  found-  guilty  at  the  last  of 
this  sin,  it  were  better  for  that  man  he  had  never  been  born.  It 
were  better  for  him  he  had  been  a  Turk  or  Indian,  that  never  had 
heard  the  name  of  a  Savior,  and  that  never  had  salvation  offered 
to  him.  For  such  men  "  have  no  cloak  for  their  sin  ; "  John 
XV.  22.  Besides  all  the  rest  of  their  sins,  they  have  this  killing 
sin  to  answer  for,  which  will  undo  them.  And  this  will  aggravate 
their  misery,  that  Christ  whom  they  set  light  by  must  be  their 
judge,  and  for  this  sin  will  he  judge  thejn.  O  that  such  would  now 
consider  how  they  will  answer  that  question  that  Christ  put  to  their 
predecessors,  "  How  will  ye  escape  the  danmation  of  hell?" 
(Matt,  xxiii.  3.3.)  or  "  How  shall  we  escape  if  we  neglect  so  great 
salvation?"     lleb.  ii.3.     Can   you  escape  without  a  Christ;  or 


606  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

will  a  despised  Christ  save  you  then  ?  If  he  be  accursed  that  sets 
light  by  father  or  mother,  (Deut.  xxvii.  16.)  what  then  is  he  that 
sets  light  by  Christ  ?  It  was  the  heinous  sin  of  the  Jews,  that 
among  them  were  found  such  as  set  light  by  father  and  mother ; 
Ezek.  xxii.  7.  But  among  us,  men  slight  the  Father  of  Spirits  ! 
In  the  name  of  God,  brethren,  I  beseech  you  to  consider  how 
you  will  then  bear  his  anger  which  now  you  make  light  of !  You 
that  cannot  make  light  of  a  little  sickness  or  want,  or  of  natural 
death,  no,  not  of  a  toothache,  but  groan  as  if  you  were  undone  ; 
how  will  you  then  make  light  of  the  fury  of  the  Lord,  which  will 
burn  against  the  contemners  of  his  grace  !  Doth  it  not  behove 
you  beforehand  to  'think  of  these  things  ? 

iii.  Hitherto  I  have  been  convincing  you  of  the  evil  of  the  sin, 
and  the  danger  that  followeth  ;  I  come  now  to  know  your  resolution 
for  the  time  to  come.  What  say  you  ?  Do  you  mean  to  set  as 
light  by  Christ  and  salvation  as  hitherto  you  have  done  ;  and  to  be 
the  same  men  after  all  this  ?  I  hope  not.  O,  let  not  your  minis- 
ters, that  would  fain  save  you,  be  brought  in  as  witnesses  against  you 
to  condemn  you  :  at  least,  I  beseech  you,  put  not  this  upon  me. 
Why,  sirs,  if  the  Lord  shall  say  to  us  at  judgment.  Did  you  never 
tell  these  men  what  Christ  did  for  their  souls,  and  what  need  they 
had  of  him,  and  how  nearly  it  did  concern  them  to  look  to  their 
salvation,  that  they  made  light  of  it  ? — we  must  needs  say  the  truth  ; 
lea.  Lord,  we  told  them  of  it  as  plainly  as  we  could  ;  we  would 
have  gone  on  our  knees  to  them  if  we  had  thought  it  would  have 
prevailed  ;  we  did  entreat  them  as  earnestly  as  we  could  to  consid- 
er these  things  :  they  heard  of  these  things  every  day ;  but,  alas  ! 
we  never  could'  get  them  to  their  hearts  :  they  gave  us  the  hear- 
ing, but  they  made  light  of  all  that  we  could  say  to  them.  O,  sad 
will  it  prove  on  your  side,  if  you  force  us  to  such  an  answer  as  this. 

But  if  the  Lord  do  move  the  hearts  of  any  of  you,  and  you  re- 
solve to  make  liglit  of  Christ  no  more  ;  or  if  any  of  you  say,  '  We 
do  not  make  light  of  him  ; '  let  me  tell  you  here  in  the  conclusion 
what  you  must  do,  or  else  you  shall  be  judged  as  slighters  of 
Christ  and  salvation. 

And  first  I  will  tell  you  what  will  not  serve  the  turn. 

1.  You  may  have  a  notional  knowledge  of  Christ,  and  the  ne- 
cessity of  his  blood,  and  of  the  excellency  of  salvation,  and  yet 
perish  as  neglecters  of  him.  This  is  too  common  among  professed 
Christians.  You  may  say  all  that  other  men  do  of  him.  What 
gospel  passages  had  Balaam  !  Jesus  1  know,  and  Paul  I  know, 
the  very  devils  could  say,  who  believe  and  tremble  ;  James  ii. 

2.  You  may  weep  at  the  history  of  his  passion,  when  you  read 
how  he  was  used  by  the  Jews,  and  yet  make  light  of  him,  and 
perish  for  so  doing. 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 


C07 


3.  You  may  come  desirously  to  his  word  and  ordinances. 
Herod  heard  gladly  ;  so  do  many  that  yet  must  perish  as  neglect- 
ers  of  salvation. 

4.  You  may,  in  a  fit  of  fear,  have  strong  desires  after  a  Christ, 
to  ease  you,  and  to  save  you  from  God's  WTath,  as  Saul  had  of 
David  to  play  before  him  ;  and  yet  you  may  perish  for  making 
light  of  Christ. 

5.  You  may  obey  him  in  many  things,  so  far  as  will  not  ruin  you 
in  the  world,  and  escape  much  of  the  pollutions  of  the  world  by 
his  knowledge,  and  yet  neglect  him. 

6.  You  may  suffer  and  lose  much  for  him,  so  far  as  leaveth  you 
an  earthly  felicity  ;  as  Ananias,  the  young  man.  Some  parcels  of 
their  pleasures  and  profits  many  will  part  with  in  hope  of  salvation, 
that  shall  perish  everlastingly  for  valuing  it  no  more. 

7.  You  may  be  esteemed  by  others  a  man  zealous  for  Christ, 
and  loved  and  admired  upon  that  account,  and  yet  be  one  that  shall 
perish  for  making  hght  of  him. 

8.  You  may  verily  think  yourselves,  that  you  set  more  by  Christ 
and  salvation  than  any  thing,  and  yet  be  mistaken,  and  be  judged  as 
contemners  of  him  :  Christ  justifieth  not  all  that  justify  themselves. 

9.  You  may  be  zealous  preachers  of  Christ  and  salvation,  and 
reprove  others  for  this  neglect,  and  lament  the  sin  of  the  world  in 
the  like  expression  as  1  have  done  this  day  ;  and  yet  if  you  or  I 
have  no  better  evidence  to  prove  our  hearty  esteem  of  Christ  and 
salvation,  we  are  undone  for  all  this. 

You  hear, brethren, what  will  notserve  the  turn ;  will  you  nowhear 
what  persons  you  must  be,  if  you  would  not  be  condemned  as  slight- 
ers  of  Christ  ?     O,  search  whether  it  be  thus  with  your  souls,  or  no. 

1 .  Your  esteem  of  Christ  and  salvation  must  be  greater  than  your 
esteem  of  all  the  honors,  profits,  or  pleasures  of  this  'world,  or  else 
you  slight  him  :  no  less  will  be  accounted  sincere,  nor  accepted  to 
your  salvation.  Think  not  this  hard,  when  there  is  no  compansoii 
in  the  matters  esteemed.  To  esteem  the  greatest  glory  on  earth 
before  Christ  and  everlasting  glory,  is  a  greater  folly  and  wrong  to- 
Christ,  than  to  esteem  a  dog  before  your  prince,  would  be  folly  in 
you,  and  a  wrong  to  him.  Scripture  is  plain  in  this.  "  He  that 
loveth  father  or  mother,  wife,  children,  house,  land,  or  his  own  life, 
rnore  than  me,'  is  not  worthy  of  me,  and  cannot  be  my  disciple;' 
Matt.  X.  .37  ;  Luke  xiv.  26. 

2.  You  must  manifest  this  esteem  of  Christ  and  salvation  in  your 
daily  endeavors  and  seeking  after  him,  and  in  parting  with  any 
thing  that  he  shall  require  of  you.  God  is  a  Spii'it,  and  will  not 
take  a  hypocritical  profession  instead  of  the  heart  and  spiritual  ser- 
vice which  he  conuuandeth.  He  will  have  the  heart  or  nothing; 
and  the  chief  room  in  the  heart  too.     These  must  be  had. 


€08  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST. 

If  you  say  that  you  do  not  make  light  of  Christ,  or  will  not  here- 
after, let  me  try  you  in  these  few  particulars,  whether  indeed  you 
mean  as  you  say,  and  do  not  dissemble. 

1.  Will  you  for  the  time  to  come  make  Christ  and  salvation  the 
chiefest  matter  of  your  care  and  study  ?  Thmst  them  not  out  of 
your  thoughts  as  a  needless  or  unprofitable  subject ;  nor  allow  it 
only  some  running,  slight  thoughts,  which  will  not  affect  you.  But 
will  you  make  it  your  business  once  a  day  to  bethink  you  soberly, 
when  you  are  alone,  what  Christ  hath  done  for  you,  and  what  he 
will  do,  if  you  do  not  make  light  of  it ;  and  what  it  is  to  be  ever- 
lastingly happy  or  miserable  ;  and  what  all  things  in  this  world  are 
in  comparison  of  your  salvation  ;  and  how  they  will  shortly  leave 
you  ;  and  what  mind  you  will  be  then  of,  and  how  you  will  esteem 
them  ?  Will  you  promise  me  now  and  then  to  make  it  your  busi- 
ness to  withdraw  yourselves  from  the  world,  and  set  yourselves  to 
such  considerations  as  these  ?  If  you  will  not,  are  not  you 
slighters  of  Christ  and  salvation,  that  will  not  be  persuaded  sober- 
ly to  think  on  them  ?  This  is  my  first  question  to  put  you  to  the 
trial,  whether  you  will  value  Christ,  or  not. 

2.  Will  you,  for  the  lime  to  come,  set  more  by  the  word  of  God, 
w^hich  contains  the  discovery  of  these  excellent  things,  and  is  your 
charter  for  salvation  and  your  guide  thereunto  ?  Yovi  cannot  set 
by  Christ,  but  you  must  set  by  his  word  :  therefore  the  despisers 
of  it  are  threatened  with  destruction  ;  Prov.  xiii.  13.  Will  you 
therefore  attend  to  the  public  preaching  of  this  word  ?  Will  you 
read  it  daily  ?  Will  you  resolve  to  obey  it  whatever  it  may  cost 
you  ?  If  you  will  not  do  this,  but  make  light  of  the  word  of  God, 
you  shall  be  judged  as  such  as  make  light  of  Christ  and  salvation, 
whatever  you  may  fondly  promise  to  yourselves. 

3.  Will  you,  for  the  time  to  come,  esteem  more  of  the  officers 
of  Christ  whom  he  hath  purposely  appointed  to  guide  you  to  sal- 
vation ;  and  will  you  make  use  of  them  for  that  end  ?  Alas,  it  is 
not  to  give  the  minister  a  good  word,  and  speak  well  of  him,  and 
pay  him  his  tithes  duly,  that  will  serve  the  turn :  it  is  for  the.  ne- 
cessity of  your  souls  that  God  hath  set  them  in  his  church ;  that 
they  may  be  as  physicians  under  Christ,  or  his  apothecaries  to  ap- 
ply his  remedies  to  your  spiritual  diseases,  not  only  in  public,  but 
also  in  private  ;  that  you  may  have  some  to  go  to  for  the  resolving 
of  your  doubts,  and  for  your  instruction  where  you  are  ignorant, 
and  for  the  help  of  their  exhortations  and  prayers.  Will  you  use 
hereafter  to  go  to  your  ministers  privately,  and  solicit  them  for  ad- 
vice ?  And  if  you  have  not  such  of  your  own  as  are  fit,  get  advice 
from  others  ;  and  ask  them  what  you  shall  do  to  be  saved.  How 
to  prepare  for  death  and  judgment.  And  will  you  obey  the 
word  of  God  in  their  mouths  ?   If  you  will  not  do  this  much,  nor  so 


,  MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  609 

much  as  inquire  of  those  that  should  teach  you,  nor  use  tlie  means 
which  Christ  hath  estabhshed  in  his  church  for  your  help,  your 
own  consciences  shall  one  day  witness  that  you  were  such  as  made 
light  of  Christ  and  salvation.  If  any  of  you  doubt  whether  it  be 
your  duty  thus  to  ask  counsel  of  your  teachers,  as  sick  men  do  of 
their  physicians,  let  your  own  necessities  resolve  you,  let  God's 
express  word  resolve  you ;  see  what  is  said  of  the  priests  of  the 
Lord,  even  before  Christ's  coming,  when  much  of  their  work  did 
lie  in  ceremonials !  "  My  covenant  was  with  him  of  life  and 
peace :  and  I  gave  them  to  him  (to  Levi)  for  the  fear  wherewith 
he  feared  me,  and  was  afraid  before  my  name.  The  law  of  truth 
was  in  his  mouth,  and  iniquity  was  not  found  in  his  lips  ;  he  walk- 
ed with  me  in  peace  and  equity,  and  did  turn  many  away  from 
iniquity.  For  the  priests'  lips  should  keep  knowledge,  and  they 
should  seek  the  law  at  his  mouth ;  for  he  is  the  messenger  of  the 
Lord  of  Hosts;"  Mai.  ii.  5,  6. 

Nay,  you  must  not  only  inquire,  and  submit  to  their  advice,  but 
also  to  their  just  reprehensions,  and  church  censures ;  and  without 
proud  repining  submit  to  the  discipline  of  Christ  in  tbclr  hands,  if 
it  shall  be  used  in  the  congregations  whereof  you  are  members. 

4.  Will  you,  for  the  time  to  com*?,  make  conscience  of  daily  and 
earnest  prayer  to  God,  that  you  may  have  a  part  in  Christ  and 
salvation?  Do  not  go  out  of  doors  till  you  have  breathed  out 
these  desires  to  God ;  do  not  lie  down  to  rest  till  you  have  breathed 
out  these  desires ;  say  not,  God  knoweth  my  necessity  without  so 
often  praying ;  for  though  he  do,  yet  he  will  have  you  to  know 
them,  and  feel  them,  and  exercise  your  desires  and  all  the  graces 
of  his  Spirit  in  these  duties :  it  is  he  that  hath  commanded  to 
pray  continually,  though  he  know  your  needs  without ;  1  Thess. 
V.  17.  Christ  himself  spent  whole  nights  in  prayer,  and  en- 
courageth  us  to  this  course;  Luke  xviii.  L  If  you  will  not  be 
persuaded  to  this  much,  how  can  you  say  that  you  make  not  light 
of  Christ  and  salvation  ? 

5.  Will  you,  for  the  time  to  come,  resolvedly  cast  away  your 
known  sins  at  the  command  of  Christ  ?  If  you  have  been  proud, 
or  contentious,  or  malicious,  and  revengeful,  be  so  no  more.  If 
you  have  been  adulterers,  or  swearers,  or  cursers,  be  so  no  more. 
You  cannot  hold  these,  and  yet  set  by  Christ  and  salvation. 

What  say  you  ?  Are  you  resolved  to  let  them  go  ?  If  not, 
when  you  know  it  is  the  will  of  Christ,  and  he  hath  told  you  such 
shall  not  enter  into  his  kingdom,  do  not  you  make  light  of  him  ? 

6.  Will  you  for  the  time  to  come  serve  God  in  the  dearest  as 
well  as  in  the  cheapest  part  of  his  service  ?     Not  only  with  your 

.  tongues,  but  with  your  purses  and  your  deeds  ?     Shall  the  poor 
find  that  you  set  more  by  Christ  than  this  world  ?     Shall  it  appear 
VOL.  I.  77 


610  MAKIN(i    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  ,  * 

in  any  good  uses  that  (jod  calls  you  to  be  liberal  in,  according  to 
your  abilities  ?  Pure  religion,  and  undefiled  before  God,  is  this, 
To  visit  the  fatherless  and  the  widows  in  their  affliction ;  James 
i.  ult.  Will  you  resolve  to  stick  to  Christ,  and  make  sure  this 
work  of  salvation,  though  it  cost  you  nil  that  you  have  in  the  world? 
If  you  think  these  terms  too  dear,  you  make  light  of  Christ,  and 
will  be  judged  accordingly. 

7.  Will  you,  for  the  time  to  come,  make  much  of  all  things  that 
tend  to  your  salvation  ;  and  take  every  help  that  God  ofFereth  you, 
and  gladly  make  use  of  all  his  ordinances?  Attend  upon  his 
strengthening  sacraments,  spend  the  Lord's  own  day  in  these  holy 
employments  ;  instmct  your  children  and  servants  in  these  things  ; 
(Deut.  vi.  6.  7.)  get  into  good  company  that  set  theirfaces  heaven- 
ward, and  will  teach  you  the  way,  and  help  you  thither ;  and  take 
heed  of  the  company  of  wicked  scorners,  or  foolish,  voluptuous, 
fleshly  men,  or  any  that  would  hinder  you  in  this  work.  Will  you 
do  these  things  ?  Or  will  you  show  that  you  are  slighters  of 
Christ  by  neglecting  them  ? 

8.  Will  you  do  all  this  with  delight ;  not  as  your  toil,  but  as  your 
pleasure  ;  and  take  it  for  your  highest  honor  that  you  may  be  Christ's 
disciples,  and  may  be  admitted  to  serve  and  worship  him ;  and  re- 
joice with  holy  confidence  in  the  sufficiency  of  that  sacrifice  by 
which  you  may  have  pardon  of  all  your  failings,  and  right  to  the  '14^ 
heritance  of  the  saints  in  light  ?  If  you  will  do  these  things  sincere- 
ly, you  will  show  that  you  set  by  Christ  and  salvation  ;  else  not. 

Dearly  beloved  in  the  Lord,  I  have  now  done  that  work  which 
I  came  upon ;  what  efiect  it  hath,  or  will  have  upon  your  hearts,  I 
know  not,  nor  is  it  any  further  in  my  power  to  accomplish  that 
which  my  soul  desireth  for  you.  Were  it  the  Lord's  will  that  I 
might  have  my  wish  herein,  the  words  that  you  have  this  day 
heard  should  so  stick  by  you,  that  the  secure  should  be  awakened 
by  them,  and  none  of  you  should  perish  by  the  slighting  of  your 
salvation.  I  cannot  now  follow  you  to  your  several  habitations 
to  apply  this  word  to  your  particular  necessities  ;  but  O  that  I  could 
make  every  man's  conscience  a  preacher  to  himself,  that  it  might 
do  it  which  is  ever  with  you  ;  that  the  next  time  you  go  prayerless 
to  bed  or  about  your  business,  conscience  might  cry  out,  '  Dogt  thou 
set  no  more  by  Christ  and  thy  salvation  ? '  That  the  next  time 
you  are  tempted  to  think  hardly  of  a  holy  and  diligent  life,  (I  will 
not  say  to  deride  it  as  more  ado  than  needs,)  conscience  might  cry  out 
to  thee, '  Dost  thou  set  so  light  by  Christ  and  thy  salvation  ? '  That 
the  next  time  you  are  ready  to  rush  upon  known  sin,  and  to  please 
your  fleshly  desires  against  the  command  of  God,  conscience  might 
cry  out,  '  Is  Christ  and  salvation  no  more  worth,  than  to  cast  them 
aw"ay,  or  venture  them  for  thy  lusts  ? '     That  Avhen  you  are  follow- 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    CHRIST.  611 

ing  the  world  with  your  most  eager  desires,  forgetting  the  world  to 
come,  and  the  change  that  is  a  little  before  you,  conscience  might 
cry  out  to  you,  '  Is  Christ  and  salvation  no  more  worth  than  so  ? ' 
That  when  you  are  next  spending  the  Lord's  day  in  idleness  or 
vain  sports,  conscience  might  tell  you  what  you  are  doing.  In  a 
word,  that  in  all  your  neglects  of  duty,  your  sticking  at  the  sup- 
posed labor  or  cost  of  a  godly  life  ;  yea,  in  all  your  cold  and  lazy 
prayers  and  performances,  conscience  might  tell  you  how  unsuit- 
able such  endeavors  are  to  the  reward ;  and  that  Christ  and  salva- 
tion should  not  be  so  slighted.  I  will  say  no  more  but  this  at  this 
time,  It  is  a  thousand  pities  that  when  God  hath  provided  a  Sa- 
vior for  the  world,  and  .when  Christ  hath  suffered  so  much  for 
their  sins,  and  made  so  full  a  satisfaction  to  justice,  and  purcHased 
so  glorious  a  kingdom  for  his  saints,  and  all  this  is  offered  so  freely 
to  sinners,  to  lost,  unworthy  sinners,  even  for  nothing,  that  yet  so 
many  millions  should  everlastingly  perish  because  they  made  light 
of  their  Savior  and  salvation,  and  prefer  the  vain  world  and  their 
lusts  before  them.  I  have  delivered  my  message ;  the  Lord  open 
your  hearts  to  receive  it :  I  have  persuaded  you  with  the  word  of 
truth  and  soberness ;  the  Lord  persuade  you  more  effectually,  or 
else  all  this  is  lost. 


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